Lift the Veil
by jarethsdragon
Summary: I know what you seek. You want to know if Loki ever has a happy ending...
1. Prologue

_"I know what you are seeking._

_"You are wondering if Loki Laugheyson ever has a happy ending._

_"You are wondering if he is eternally damned and hated, or if there is some slight possibility that even one such as he may find happiness and love. Is he—in all of the possibilities of all the universes—always ends all of his days chained to a rock with a firey serpent dripping acid on his face or if there exists some spark in his being that is good enough to stave off that horrible fate._

_"Of course, there is Sigyn—his good and faithful woman. Sigyn the Patient. Sigyn the Faithful. Sigyn who holds a bowl over his face to catch the poison and save Loki from its pain. Yet even Sigyn must turn to pour the bowl out and Loki is again beset with acid dripping on his face and writhes in torment causing the earth to shake._

_"How do you explain her?_

_"In your understanding of Loki, and all the mischief and plots and evil he has done, how does he warrant another staying by his side, sharing his punishment unerringly and eternally? How does one who has plotted and schemed and black-heartedly killed earn such loyalty and devotion? How do you explain her—for she shares his torment willingly, rather than let him face his fate alone. And she is allowed to pour the poison out—setting him in torment—rather than let it touch her hands._

_"In all of the realms of possibilities, all the byways of choice, is there rhyme or reason for Sigyn? Is she a misplaced demon, who must impatiently wait to be freed or to fulfill some punishment of her own? Is she punished by Odin Allfather to await Ragnarock as an unwilling companion? Is she an unlucky and ill-witted fool to believe the self-proclaimed Lord of Lies? Is she perhaps cursed by Loki's own magic to serve him?_

_"But come now. You have not asked about Sigyn. You have asked about Loki. You have asked if he achieves a happy ending where he is freed from the devils driving him to ruin and evil. Is it his karma to be the darkness to Thor Odinson's light—and to thus, ultimately be ruined by his own evil? Or is there some way—some choice unmade or path chosen—that he too, is redeemed?_

_"I—Uatu, the Watcher of the Migardian Realm and the planet Earth—have seen the roads of possibilities. I have seen the endings and beginnings of thousands and infinities beyond your ken. I have seen that in your universe, ultimately Loki does fall to darkness and is cursed to ruin because of his choices._

_"Yet there does exist a realm of possibilities where Loki is not counted completely evil and judged and punished. There does exist a realm where his story does not end in racking torture. Of the many realms where damsels and youths fall for his false charm and empty promises, there is a realm where the charm and promises have been real._

_"Know this, though. This realm that I show you is not your own. I do not show you anything that can yet exist in this realm that you know and love as every choice, every step and every word fall into a steady track and build on the last. Even if the choices made here were undone in an attempt to follow this path, there would be no possibility that this would be Loki's future. His way is set by his hand and his choices and his destiny is his own. I will not alter this by showing you the ultimate outcomes that no mortal or immortal should know before their time._

_"As well, know this. The smallest choice can change the destiny of nations and the tinyest change can turn the tide of destiny."_


	2. The Woman on the Island

Asgard rests among a sea of clouds like a dusky pearl in the shell. It rises in glory to the palace in the center-majestic buildings and glorious monuments to the best of things-great heros, bravery, and beauty. The halls echo with laughter and sigh with words softly spoken. Even the small villages away from the palace and surrounding city bustle and there is charming homage to the joys and home and hearth; family and friends. Great bridges stretch unimaginable distances from shore to shore, joining place to place like good friends holding hands.

Yet, there are tiny islands that one may see in the distance. The clouds that roll in from the sea hide them like a drama of hide and seek. There are large ones with whole villages. There are medium ones that may only hold a single building like the one that holds the Bifrost. There are tiny ones-little pebbles like afterthoughts of the creation-that are largely disregarded. Occasionally, some romantic couple will attempt to sail or fly to one as a tryst. Sometimes fishermen will sail past them, hunting the largest of fish for feasting. But they are largely inhabitable-steep cliffs with no shore, oft times surrounded by treacherously hidden sand bars or rocks. In truth, some of them seem to only ever be visited by birds who clutch their rocky faces for moments before trying to find some better place to roost.

One such island is so far to the west of Asgard that the shadow of the great palace itself touches it only half a day. Only from the tallest tower may one ever see it-and only if the day is exceptionally clear. It appears almost crab shaped-two branches of craggy stone shelter a thin strip of beach with an inlet far too narrow for most sea craft. Cliffs march through the center and a thumbprint shaped patch of green may just barely be seen on the other side. If one were to take a spyglass, one could see two old trees of some kind clinging to far side before the land drops off entirely into the sea. One might even barely be able to see that birds live on the island and some other animal-but only barely and only on particularly clear days.

On that narrow, curved beach, a black rock sticks up like a rude thumb, marking the place where the sea ends. Were one there on the beach, one would see that there is a narrow, dusty trail that meanders upward among the rocks, but the trail would be lost quickly among the cliffs that seem to frown at the shadow of golden Asgard. As the sun travels to its rest in the evening, it sees that there is in fact a golden-green meadow on the other side of the mountains and that an improbable billy goat and his two nanny goats graze there, along with some chickens that are almost wild. As the sun sets, turning the western sky alive with crimson and gold before fading into a majestic purple, the lone figure of a woman may be seen picking her way through the meadow. Whatever paths she may have taken to get there are hidden so the solar orb seems to see her pop out of the mountains themselves before it hides for the night.

She is almost beautiful with a thick braid of long brown hair that turns red if the sun touches it. Her skin is rough and chapped, but a pleasant tanned color of honey and cream. She wears a cloak of gray with a hood that shades her face and one of three simple dresses—one of mossy green, one the color of clear river sand, and one the shade of dark red of the clay that is in the hollows of the mountains.

Each warm summer day she sweeps the path to the beach. She washes the dress she wore the day before on the rocks on the eastern side as the fog still clings to the beach. She may take time to scrub herself with the sea sand but she does take a moment to tie her hair back with a bit of yarn spun from the goat's wool.

The goats do not need her to tell them to rise and meander to the meadow. The chickens do not need her to tell them to scratch for worms and grubs. The scrawny rooster does not need her to tell him to herd his flock through the pathways to the meadow. The goats have a shallow cave with a clumsily tied driftwood fence in front of it for shelter. The chickens have a box that they roost in made of some wood so old and so lopsided that it appears to be another rock.

She listens carefully to the worn tin bells on the goats' collars and the cackle of the birds as she spreads her wet dress on a rock high off the beach. Feeling her way carefully along the path, she emerges to the little summit where the path crests before slithering down the other side to the meadow. She is surrounded by high walls of rock save for an outcropping with a plain door to her right side. The animals are already in the meadow and their voices echo strangely in the roofless stone hallway.

In the meadow, the goats have wandered around and are bleating to each other about whatever goats have to say to each other. The chickens are less talkative and busily scratch about. The woman smiles softly, feeling the uncertain warmth in the air as the fog begins to leave the island. It will be after noon before she feels the full heat of sunlight, so she tends her tiny garden of vegetables and makeshift niches of herbs while the shadow cools her. The few pots that the island boasts are tucked behind some last boulders before the path widens into the meadow and hold leafy herbs and peppers. Garlic, lavender, onions, rosemary, thyme and borage grow wild in the craggy mountainside.

She moves a rock and takes out a small, plain pouch. Opening it, she sprinkles a thin line of powder around her plot. She has been told it will keep the goats from wandering into the vegetables. They seem more interested in the fruits of the ancient apple tree that clings to the very edge of land before the cliff tumbles into the roaring ocean anyway. The pecan tree sits cautiously further back, dropping nuts on those foolish enough to relish its shade.

The chickens freely search the earth she tills with a small hand shovel, pecking at insects. She hums softly to them, pulling the weeds that she feels and collects as fodder for the goats. Some few feet beside the garden is a little freshwater spring that flows like silver from an undecorated crack in the cliff down to the narrow trench lining the side of the meadow. The garden, goats and chickens sip freely from this all year until the snows turn it solid.

The goats are milked and the milk is stored in a jug. The chicken eggs are gathered in a ratty basket which she takes up the mountain path with the jug and whatever herbs or vegetables she has found ripe. She opens the doorway and slips inside with her meager bounty.

It is warm in here—a result of the hidden hot spring that flows from the heart of the island to another crack and then falls in a cascading ribbon down to a hollowed out pool. A steam vent occasionally can be heard hissing, but that is more rare. The closed doorway lets in very little light and the rather random collection of glowing mushrooms lends the place an otherworldly glow while hiding much in the shadows. There are three main caves that nestle deep into the mountain—the front one which is the kitchen and eating area, the cave holding the hot spring and a third—the largest—for her bedchamber. Each cave is draped in splendid stalactites and the rocks sometimes almost shimmer.

There is a rough stone table—at least a flat rock with a crudely shaped hollow area underneath. It is here she places her basket and jug. There are only four shelves-holding most of her fortune of sealed jars—but many convenient nooks and crannies where she may place her herbs. A wooden chair with a low back sits at the table.

She takes a pot with a perilously thin bottom to the hot spring and fills it, carefully dropping in the two eggs. Then she hurries back to the kitchen. By the time she has poured the milk into one of her two glasses and fetched a slice of her bread, the eggs are cooked enough.

She has smooth, flat pieces of wood for platter and plate and she chews her tough brown bread and egg thoughtfully. By her own (terribly inexact) reckoning, she can expect some of her garden to be ripe in two weeks. Again, she will need to use one of her pots to draw sea water so that she can salt some of it for winter. Some of it will dry well and other pieces—such as the thin, tough carrots, will store well in one of the cooler niches of her cave. It is her own good fortune that she has many jars with tight seals for her pickles and perserves—as poor as they are.

She softly sighs as she blindly rubs the stub of bread against the plate—hoping to get the last bits of egg. She had used the last of her minimal amount of butter to make the flat bread against the brazier and flat iron over it. Truthfully, it didn't taste good—not like her mama's.

Gods! She missed cheese. Of all the things to miss, she missed cheese melted over her mama's toast the most. Of course, there many things she missed—children playing outside her parents' home, thick tomes of stories, her mother's thick stew, real butter from cows and—gods above she missed it all so much. Her hands shook and she knocked the knife from the wooden platter onto the table with a clatter. Gasping for air, she choked back the sob.

Desperate, she began gathering the debris from her meal. The wooden platter and knife were scrubbed with a rag and another pan of hot water before being returned to their places. The egg shells went into a bucket she had found on her beach one day, where she dumps most of her trash. The last crust of flatbread went to her pocket for her chickens.

She drew more water from the hot spring, dumping the dirty water into a convenient crack in the floor. There was a pause and then the sound of splashing as the water hit the bottom. Snatching up the rag, she began furiously wiping down the table. Then the floor was wiped down. It was difficult to wrestle her worn sheets to the shore and wash them—perhaps even dangerous—but it was better than remembering.

She spread the sheets over worn rocks in the rocky pass where the wind would not blow them about. Fetching her dress from the rock at the shore and placing it inside, she wandered back to her animals.

The sun had warmed the meadow considerably and the warmth made the animal lethargic and complacent. She carefully herded the goats to their own shallow cave and fed them the weeds from the garden. In some peculiar twist of fate, these goats were particularly fastidious and she had only one corner of the cave to muck out, pushing the muck into her small pile of leavings to be incorporated into the garden soil again. The chickens attacked her meager bread crust and settled in their roost.

Using the last of the day's milk, an old potato, some onion and carrots and a leek, she made a thin soup for her own supper, warming it over the brazier in the dim light of the mushrooms. Then, in a flurry of action, she again scrubbed the table and pot and knife again.

It was night when she finally stopped. Her muscles ached, but everything was as clean as she could make it. Everything was in its place. Standing at the table, she paused and turned towards one of her shelves. There were two tiny, shallow baskets at the end of the shelf. From the left one, she took a smooth pebble and, carressing it, she dropped it into the right one. Taking down the right basket, she spilled it out on the table and gathered the collected pebbles again, counting them.

"Thirteen," she counted with a sigh. Thirteen little pebbles were scooped back up into the basket and put back on the shelf. Thirteen nights alone, praying each night that there would be no dreams and her sleep would be peaceful. Thirteen days blending together in an endless sameness of yesterday and today and tomorrow. This life would be funny to her in a tragic kind of way once. Now it was simply ironic.

She went back to the back area, past the little niche where she stored her basket of potatoes and carrots and hung her string of onions. The rocky floor raised up a bit and there was a thin, feather stuffed mat on the floor with the worn sheets again on it. Two pillows sat vaguely at the head of the bed. The sheets and old blanket smelled of the sea now—a somewhat soothing fragrance as she prayed for no bad dreams. Then, with a sigh, she lay on her back and willed herself to sleep.

It was the door closing that woke her up. She started, clutching the blanket close as her dreams of fire and ice tangled in her mind. Then, as the ice swept close, she bolted upright.

"Who's there?!" she demanded, not really expecting an answer.

"Just me," answered a light tenor voice.

She heard the smile in the welcome sound of his voice. Letting out a laugh of joy, she leapt from the mat and ran to the front of the cave. "Locca! You've come home!"

Locca smiled thinly, holding packages and gifts in his arms. "Careful,___myn lykyng_," he said. "You don't want me to ruin my gifts."

She blindly felt around to his shoulders and then traced down his arms to his hands. Several packages were there. "Locca—you've returned and that is all I have wished for." Together they set the packages down. "Did your trading go well? Is that what took so long? Did you have to go to..." She shuddered. "___Asgard_again?" She couldn't help smiling in his presence though, as she drew him back into the cave.

As Locca's eyes adjusted to the ill-lit cavern from the moonlight soaked night, he saw the clumsily hewn slabs of rock transform. The table became level and carved and the chair straightened into almost a throne with a high-back. He knew that the rock floor was even now—with soft rock sighs—raising into a dias with tall pillars at the corners. The mat was even becoming pleasingly plump and the pillows fluffy.

"Lights, too, _sweeting_," he chided gently as he allowed himself to be lead.

"Oh, yes," she giggled. "I forgot them." The few lanterns that he had scattered in the cave burst into joyful light and twinkled as though filled with brilliant fireflies.

By the brighter light, he studied her. Her dress became his favorite soft muslin that clung to her curves. She was not the fairest of women. Indeed, she would seem plain next to many he knew. She had curves enough, though he had to admit she was thinner. Her hair was simply beautiful—soft and loose around her to her waist. Then, she turned towards him as she spun around and he saw her face.

Across both eyes was a terrible mask of angry, red scars and went from temple to temple. The lids were sealed shut by them, but in true daylight one could see the hollows that indicated her eyes beneath them had not survived.

In the hot spring room, she stopped and began working his gauntlets off. He perched on a stool that he knew was actually a "convenient", flat rock and allowed her to take his green and black cloak and shrug his green shirt off his shoulders. The heat and moisture made both his and her hair curl, though it looked better on her than him. He shrugged off his pants, amused as she scampered around him to pick up the clothes and set them—carefully folded on the rock he had been sitting on.

She was peculiar like that—she wanted things to be just so in her little world. Exactly there and no where else. He supposed that it made it easier for her to find them again since she lacked sight. Gently, she led him into the pool of warm water. Sitting on the side, she held his head in her lap and stroked his black hair as he closed his green eyes almost wearily.

The soft lullaby she hummed was almost drowned out by the constant splashing of the hot spring into the pool, but he heard it nonetheless. It reminded him of a song his mother had sung long ago—a very long time ago. Idly, he hummed along as he watched the water splash down from the wall. His eyes drifted almost closed as she stroked his weary brown and gently rubbed his neck and shoulders. Sighing and almost asleep, he drifted for a few moments more between sleep and wakefulness.

Then, with a twist of his nimble body, he rolled in the water and pulled himself to his feet. She started but recovered and went to her little pile of cloth and picked out the drying cloths (real sheets of linen) she saved for his use. She gently patted him dry. He smiled as he remembered how shy she had been when she had first dried him. She wanted to desperately please him, but she had been so shy of his body and of touching him. He had coaxed her gently, drawing her close and guiding her hands all over him. He had, at last, drawn her into the pool and coaxed her dress off of her too—showing her how to touch by bathing her and then drying her body. She had tentatively followed his lead—then in a paradox, improved by wrapping him in the linen before leading him to to the bed. Now, of course, she knew him and was comforted by his familiarity. It was a pleasant fore-taste as she wrapped his hips in the linen and began to lead him again to the bed.

He disliked her sleeping in her dress and she discarded it in a careful, folded pile on top of her other dresses. The dias was trickier to navigate around, but she quickly joined him underneath the sheets. He made a note to bring back new sheets next time—despite her joyful enchantments, it chaffed his skin to not sleep on the fine sheets that he was used to.

She carefully laid her head on his shoulder, draping her arm over part of his chest. For some time, he had disliked the feeling of her as she had curled up so close to him with her hair tickling his nose and her arm tangling in the sheet above his chest. They had compromised on this—she was allowed to rest on his shoulder as the lights in the cave slowly dimmed with the promise of pleasure in the night.

Rather than subject himself to her questioning, he began immediately to roll towards her, cupping her face in his hand. Gently—so gently—she raised up and brushed him with the lightest and sweetest of kisses. It was the brush of dandelion seeds on the wind it was so soft.

He growled playfully and pulled her towards him. Firmly, surely, he pressed his lips to hers. He held her head with one steady hand as the other drew her closer to him. Then, pushing her down to her back, he positioned above her for one delicious moment before he joined her in pleasure.

Thor stalked the hallways towards the throne room, a scroll of papers in his hand. Odin and Frigga sat in audience with an ambassador. Odin remained focused on the matter being discussed, but Frigga's glance slid towards him and she nodded at him, smiling.

The ambassador—a tall, lanky man with a knot of nut brown hair tied behind his head and wrapped in a cloak of scarlet wool—turned for a moment. The look on his face was priceless as he realized that Thor was standing behind him. For a moment, the smooth patter of words faltered like water suddenly faltering over a rock in the stream. Then he smoothed his features again into an expression of polite interest and bowed.

Thor sketched a bow back, and gestured for him to continue.

"As I was saying," the ambassador began again. "Our village asks for aid with this blight before it destroys our harvest of barley."

Thor almost chuckled, but stopped himself. The Warriors Three would be appalled to learn that the barley for beer and mead was threatened.

"Of course," Odin agreed smoothly. "We will send three of our most skilled to help you..."

The man smiled for a moment before a thought occurred to him. "With all due respect, Your Majesties—" He swallowed nervously. "Your most skilled what?"

Odin frowned. "You have said that it is a magical blight—"

"Brought to us by witchery when the Frost Giants attacked," the man agreed.

"Then we shall send our three most skilled mages," Odin finished with only the smallest hint of annoyance. "We shall also send provisions so that they do not impoverish the village."

"Ahh," the man said, obviously considering the offer of aid. Then, with a slight air of one who knows he has no other course than polite acceptance, he bowed. "Most kind of you. My thanks." He bowed again to Frigga. "My most humble thanks to you as well, Your Majesty—the fairest flower of Asgard."

Frigga smiled benignly at him, but remained silent. Odin only nodded, his face inscrutable. The man stifled a sigh, turned with a flourish and retreated down the hall.

Thor watched him retreat for a moment before turning to his parents. "Father," he said, tempering his voice from his usual thundering boom to a low rumble. "Have you seen Loki of late?" He shook out the rolled up scroll. "I have a contract for that I should like him to examine between the palace kitchens and one of the green grocers." He shrugged slightly with a boyish grimace. "I must admit that I have no skill with haggling over pennies."

Frigga and Odin stepped down from their thrones on the dias. Frigga shook her head vaguely. "I have not seen him today."

"Nor I," added Odin. He frowned at the contract. "Although I would think that he would like to assist in this matter..."

Frigga draped an arm around her son. "He is around, I'm sure." She smiled. "It would not surprise me if he was hiding close by to watch or some other mischief."

Thor frowned at that. "I do not like that he is absent when there are duties for him to perform." Mischief was something Loki excelled at—particularly mischief that caused work for him. "His attention is needed here."

Odin smiled wisely at Thor. "And this is an excellent opportunity for you to learn about the finer arts of negotiation. It is a skill to allow you to live in peace—and a skill a king must possess." Thor glanced at the Allfather, to which Odin only said, "It is a skill that all should strive to master."

"Of course, Father," Thor replied.

Thus it was that Thor was traveling through the town that evening when a plump, older lady hailed him.

"Your Highness," she called, waving. She was so short that he could scarcely see her or hear her over the crowd that had gathered around him. "Your Highness!"

Thor wrenched through the crowd. "You called?" he smiled winningly.

The poor woman almost did a somersault, she bowed so swiftly and so low and with such a grand genuflection. "Your Highness! I have something to return to...err...His Highness."

"Something for my brother?" Thor asked. The crowd faded into the background of his awareness. This was the first time anyone had asked him about his brother. "What about Loki?"

The woman smiled and reddened. "He paid me for a bolt of fabric and I forgot to include the matching threads. I was so busy wrapping Her Majesty's new bliaut to be carried back to the palace-and then, such a crowd came in with a bride!" She tipped forward again. This time, her cheeks went red while her face went pale. "Please, Your Highness. I had no idea that I had not included the thread with the fabric. I did not mean to offend anyone—it was an honest mistake!" She began to wring her hands. "An honest mistake!" Abruptly she stood again, sweat beading down her brow and her eyes starting to look puffy. "I will not err so again." She glanced around at the suddenly silent crowd. "I will add another bolt of my finest green silk were he to forgive my disgrace!"

Thor smiled at her. This trivial sort of matter he could handle far more easily than attempting to pry profits from the merchants' guild. "Dear lady, I'm sure that it was easily missed—"

"An honest mistake, Your Highness. It was an honest mistake! I swear on my guild!" She wrung her hands. "I am an honest woman—running the place since my husband died." She bowed quickly again, her hands chapping red as she wrung them. "I meant no offence—not to Prince Loki!"

"Of course not," Thor began. "I will speak to my brother and give him what he purchased from you."

The woman began beaming at him as she took a deeper breath. In a trice, she had fetched a basket with the bolt of green silk with a skein of blue thread on top. Thor took the basket, looping it over his arm gingerly lest the poor woman swoon in her distress. "He will understand this folly and naught will harm you. I swear it."

The woman bobbed and curtseyed again and again, finally clinging to his red cape and kissing it. "Bless you, Highness. Bless you. My children and their children will know of your mercy."

"Hail Prince Thor!" someone shouted.

"Hail Prince Thor!" the crowd shouted back.

Quite quickly, someone passed around a skin of wine. Thor opened the skin and toasted the people, swallowing a swig of the thick, red wine. Drinking horns were quickly raised in the air as the skin was passed round and round and vassal and lord drank to the golden son of Odin. To his health. To his skill. To his rise to the throne. To his health again. To his mercy.

It was very late when Thor finally crossed into the palace. Frigga was sitting up with one of her cats, reading, when his weary head showed in the doorway. Thor nodded in her direction, mindful of his basket, which he sat down on a table.

Frigga dumped the cat onto the floor, where it hissed and bounded off. Smiling, she looked at the basket. "How lovely. Wherever did you get such beautiful cloth?"

"'Tis Loki's," Thor replied unevenly. The floor did not seem to wish to stay level beneath his feet. "Though I'm not sure why..."

"He is perhaps planning some sort of surprise," Frigga murmured. Then, deftly, she changed the subject. "How did the negotiations go?"

"I did a poor job compared to Loki's silver tongue," Thor admitted freely. "I held them to an increase of 1 percent over last year's prices." Frigga murmured again and hugged him in sympathy. "Loki would have had them begging to pay him to use their goods undoubtedly."

"I am glad to see that you appreciate Loki's talent," Frigga admitted freely. "'Tis a valuable one." She hugged him again. "I am glad my sons are both so talented."

"Mother," he smiled in return. "We would not be the same without you." He bowed over her hand and stumbled only once before turning down the hallway to his bed. With a practiced gesture, he drew a palace wench to him and into his bedroom. He knew most of the comely wenches. Tonight it was Kristen—a good, uncomplicated choice.

The next morning Thor awoke, staring at the basket. Kristen had left long since, begging to see him again and grinding against him suggestively. With a heavy sigh, Thor rose, bathed briefly and dressed. He took the basket to Loki's door and knocked loudly.

No one answered.

"Loki," he thundered at the door. "I have your...goods."

Again, no one answered.

Without much thought, Thor turned towards the family dining room. Perhaps Loki had risen early—as he was wont to do when he had something planned to delight his mother. ___Or to cause an especially dark mischief, _Thor admitted to himself.

Frigga and Odin were dining on a rasher of bacon, boiled eggs, cheese, watered wine and a selection of fruits when Thor came in. For a moment, the smells seemed overwhelming, but that subsided.

"You still have not found Loki." Odin made the statement rather than asked a question.

"I do not like that," Thor grumbled.

"Nor I." Odin thought for a moment. Another man might have looked elsewhere or toyed with his fork or begun slicing a bit of fruit to smooth over the silence. Odin was simply still—like a mountain. "But his absence has blessed you with the opportunity to see his strengths." Another silence stretched out. "Perhaps I should allow you both time to spend as you wish so that you can better appreciate your blessings."

"As you wish, Father," Thor smiled. He took a portion of bacon and a trencher to fill with egg and cheese. "I will carry to the news to him as soon as I see him." Thor gestured lamely to the basket with its bounty. Kristen slid close to him to bring him a horn of juice. Smiling, she presented it to him with only the slightest of bows and the briefest of glimpses of down her dress. Another maid quickly brought forward a bowl of water for him to wash his hands.

Odin only nodded and continued eating.

Frigga gestured towards the basket. "I should like to see more of such wondrous fabric. It is such a green in the light and then fades to almost black."

Thor handed the basket to her. "Perhaps he plans a surprise for you, Mother?"

Frigga took the fabric out. "I don't know. How did he come to have such cloth?"

"It was a gift," Thor explained simply.

"A gift? From whom?"

"A shopkeeper in the village," Thor shrugged. "She said that he had purchased some cloth and thread and somehow had forgotten the thread. She insisted it was an innocent mistake and pressed the cloth upon me as a gift for his forgiveness."

Odin's face darkened at that. "A gift for his forgiveness..." he repeated almost tonelessly.

Frigga almost caught the note in the Allfather's voice. "I should like to see more of such cloth. Could you take me there?"

"Of course, Mother," Thor smiled. "And I myself will choose cloth for a new cloak of green and gold to match your beauty."

Frigga smiled and almost blushed a bit. "You've been taking lessons from Loki with all your talk."

"It is truth," Thor insisted.

"It is truth," Odin added, his one eye wandering up and down her body. For a singular eye, it was a very busy one. Frigga did blush at that.

"And likely Loki will show up with his gift soon," Thor added. With a hearty laugh, he snickered, "Remember when he tried to make the lemon cakes you loved? In honor of your birth?" That was a memory. Loki had risen early and cornered the baker in the kitchen to make the lovely little cakes. His anger had gotten the best of him when his own efforts crumpled in his hands rather than forming lovely little balls that the cook was forming with such ease. Then the cook had dared to take one of his disk shaped pieces and—with a twist of the wrist and a sprinkle of oil—made it into the little ball. With a flash of sorcery, the rest of the squashed little forms had become hard, burned black and shattered and Loki had stormed out of the kitchens.

Thor had come in as Loki rushed out. The table had been warped as though it had caught fire. The baker was squeaking and squealing in horror and the servants were fleeing the kitchens. The a quick action, Thor had hauled a bucket over and poured it on the wood, cooling the kitchen down. Then he had fetched the ingredients all over again on his stallion. The cooks praised him as they quickly made the cakes. Thor was swept along and took trays to the ovens himself. The baker squealed as they came out of the oven and rolled them quickly in powdered sugar and drizzled honey over them. With a flourish, he had found Frigga and Loki speaking quietly outside the library and had presented them with a flourish to her.

"It was a lovely thought," Frigga sighed with a slight fretful tone.

"Do not be sad, Mother," Thor said. "We shall have a fine time selecting your fabric."

It was past the noon day meal when Thor escorted Frigga on her horse to the market. Several of the men hailed him, greeting him, but to his mother, they knelt where they stood. The pig keeper knelt in his sty. The baker knelt, offering the fresh bread he had just pulled from the oven. In the alehouse, the tender shushed a group of women who were just rolling out of bed and then knelt with a flourish in his doorway.

The poor woman was amazed to see Thor and Frigga at her doorway. She bobbed up and down so fast she seemed to be almost flapping like a bird's wing. Of course they could see all of her finest cloth—from the silk to the soft muslin to velvet and linen so fine that it might please them. A rainbow of colors spread on the table.

Thor picked up a red velvet the color of rose petals. "I should like to have this made into a cloak for my mother," he said. "Lined with silk and embroidered with flowers of silver and—"

"Thor," she sighed with maternal exasperation. "I thought we were choosing green this time?"

"Another cloak then," Thor shrugged with masculine delight. "One of green as well with gold embroidery."

The shopkeeper began bobbing again, like a chicken pecking the ground. She pulled out her string and began the careful measurements for the two cloaks. "Did His Highness enjoy the silk then?" She made a knot at the width of the queen's shoulders.

"I...that is to say—" Frigga felt tongue-tied for a moment.

"This is to match a dress of that wondrous green," Thor smiled.

"And the blue? Is there to be a match of that too?" she queried, tying another knot.

"The blue?" Thor stared at her blankly.

The shopkeeper stared at him for a moment. "Yes. The blue that he bought to match the thread." Her chin wobbled for a moment. "He...has forgiven my...forgetfulness?"

"Of course," Frigga assured her. She darted a glance to her son.

"You have the oath of Thor," Thor puffed out. "He'll not hold it against you."

The woman looked at him doubtfully, but then began to dutifully measure again.

Loki awoke lazily. There was the scent of bread in the air, along with wine. For a moment, he debated simply rolling back into blissful sleep, listening to her as she pottered about. She woke early and had been into his packages already. With a smile, he strolled out nude and walked to the hot spring. Splashing the warm water over his face and body, he flipped his wrist and summoned a cake of the dragon's blood scented soap he liked so much. The fresh pieces of linen were already folded in the room and he dried off and got dressed.

The front room was lit up when he strolled in. It pleased him to see the jars that lined her shelves. She had saved every one of them—the painted clay pots to the peculiarly shaped glass ones to the two that he favored of cut green glass. It had been an unexpected pleasure to hunt for jars that were unique in shape or material so that she could determine which she held.

"Locca," she smiled. "You have risen. It is a most wonderful morning." She shrugged lamely. "Though morning is almost gone."

She had discarded the gray cloak she wore and had hurried through her chores to get them done. The goats and chickens were out to pasture and they had vegetables and eggs to share. He had even brought her two loaves of bread—real bread, along with a packet of cheese. The jug of wine was welcome as well—and she was warming it now.

"I see that you have already been through the packages." He gestured lamely and then caught himself as he reminded himself again that she was blind.

"I did not go through all of them," she shrugged. "I could only identify these anyway. I'll need you to tell me of the rest."

"In due time, pet. In due time." He took the chair as she served him his warmed wine, toasted bread with a chunk of cheese and an egg. "Only one egg this time? Do you need more chickens?"

She flushed—her cheeks warming to almost the color of her scars. "I had thought...that is...since we have real bread and honey, to use the milk and egg for a bread pudding."

"As you like," he shrugged, though she could hear the smile in his voice. "Though bring me the honey now, if you please."

She reached on her shelf for the new jar. It had a peculiar pattern of hexagons on it, along with a cork top and so was easy to find. Bringing it to him, she squealed as he pulled her into his lap. The jar almost fell but he deftly caught it and set it on the table.

His lips brushed hers lightly. "I have waited for thirteen nights to have this again." With a shudder, he pressed his face into her neck.

"I love you so much, Locca," she murmured, wrapping her arms around him. "I always will."

For a moment, his heart stood still. He could not remember the last time someone had come to him so willingly. Even when he had clumsily tried to court a damsel, they had pulled back from him. Or had tolerated him to get close to his brother. For a moment, his hands balled into fists. "I will never let you go," he growled.

"You will never need to," she whispered. She rained kisses on his hair and head.

He swept her up and laid her down on the bed. Gently, he slid open the ties around her neck and swiftly he discarded her belt. Dragging up the skirt, he revealed her long legs. With a smirk, he settled between them. His own clothes were gone in a bit of magic. She sighed, wriggling against him blindly.

It was when she sat up to discard her dress that he grinned evilly. "Let us pretend my lovely." He picked up her belt and pressed her down. "Let us pretend a game."

She smiled. They had precious few games to play together since she could not see his cards or dice. So they "pretended a game". It was a simple game—declare the scene and act it out to mutual satisfaction.

"Let us pretend that you are the virgin sacrifice," he purred, binding her hands lightly with the woven belt.

"Oh? A sacrifice to who?" She giggled—almost ruining the electric feel of their game.

"Ahh...to who? Who would you like?"

"To you of course!" She sighed, relaxing in his grip. "You are my god. I am your sacrifice. And if I am worthy—"

"Oh...worthy?" His eyes lit up.

"I can become your priestess!"

"A lovely priestess too." He toyed with her flesh. "I like that..."

"But it is not fair to not name yourself! How else can the sacrifice be properly prepared? I mean—"

Loki laughed at their game. "I am Loki, of course!" He nuzzled her as he draped her in the sheet. It looked vaguely robe-like around her.

"Ooo...the prankster!" She wriggled and giggled. "I am to be sacrificed to the God of Lies and Tricks. The Quicksilver Tongue."

For a moment, Loki frowned at that. But it was hard not to laugh when she was laughing so joyfully. "My tongue? Of all the things I am, you worship my tongue?"

"Your tongue is most talented, my god of gods," she breathed. Her breath caught as she felt him moving against her. "'Tis truly a marvel—a miracle..." Her breath caught again. "A miracle that you found me..." she sighed again. And then they said no more for a long time.

They lay in the bed for some time after the game was done. The belt was discarded somewhere in the room. The scent of them was thick in the room. She fell asleep, wrapped in his arms, but he laid awake, staring at the ceiling. The sharp points of rock seemed to watch him with disapproval. For a moment, he scowled back at them and then smiled as he imagined the evil Frost Giants under them just as they fell. ___Slay the monsters—get the girl._Isn't that how Thor had always done it?

He scowled again, thinking of Thor. She murmured softly against him. For a moment, he started, realizing how wrapped together they were. Then he forced his muscles to relax. This little one was not Thor's—would never see Thor, would not know him and would not fall to his easy charm. This one was his and his alone.

Dinner was a simple affair. Indeed, it was practically bohemian in its simplicity—another soup, toast with cheese and wine with bread pudding for dessert. He had brought her a packet of raisins, along with a few packets of spices.

She had giggled when he opened the packet of spices and began naming them. "Locca! How on earth do you expect me to keep this all straight in my head?"

He smiled at her as she finished washing the knife. Then he led her to the singular chair. Plucking a packet up, he took out the spice which appeared to be tiny scrolls of brown paper. He waved them under her nose. "Smell this," he ordered. "It is cinnamon—wrought from trees to the south."

"Where you do trading in the winter," she sighed, sniffing.

"Yes―my...err...trading. I go there in the winter." He waved them under her nose again. "The trees are guarded by mighty eagles the size of harpies. It takes two men to fell such a tree and days upon days in the sun to peel back the back. As the bark falls, it curls like scrolls of paper. Smell the scent of the sun on it—the warmth of it. Like the southern heat that warms your tongue." He was rewarded by her smile and deep breath. A single finger flipped up and down the stick as though she petted it before he took it and slid it into the paper packet again.

He plucked up another. "Now this—this is a bean from the east. It grows on trees that smell of sweetness so thick that the bees become drunk on the scent." She felt the wrinkled bean. "Before I leave, we will split the bean and mull it in clear wine to preserve it. But does it not smell like sweet, pale silk?"

It wasn't until the last packet that she exploded. He had been spinning her a marvelous tale of how these tiny red peppers grew only in the dens of nursing dragons and had to be dried in the heart of a volcano before it became red enough. She had gingerly touched the pepper, marveling that it was like the vanilla bean. Then he broke the papery skin and held it under her nose.

With the first waft, she cried out in sheer terror and slammed backward. Screaming, she tumbled out of the chair and blindly crawled away from him.

The pepper forgotten, he approached her warily. The lights in the cave—fed by her joy—suddenly flamed uncertainly and in a sickeningly violent way. The brazier—also fed by her magic—had flamed up. A step closer to it and he would have caught on fire.

"My dove... My sweetling..." he soothed holding out his hands. "I am here."

"Locca?" she sobbed. "Please, Locca... please—where are you? I am lost without you!"

"_Sweeting_," he soothed, finally in arm's distance of her. "What in the name of Asgard is wrong?"

The lights flared again and one lantern shattered green glass on the floor. For a moment, the illusions distorted into terrible shapes—the table became a flaming mess and the chair twisted into a scowling thicket of thorny vines. "It was that...the Before time." She lunged at him—or rather in his direction. Fortunately, he was able to catch her and drag him into his arms. "Before you found me..."

"We must...shhhh...shhhh... Breathe, sweetness. Breathe gently," he soothed. The magic pulsed around him. But not like his magic. This was Wild Magic—a dangerous and unpredictable form of magic. It was said that Odin himself did not know where Wild Magic came from—only that it sprang up when he was weaving magic into the realms. It was—in the very, very few books that dared mention it—said to be linked to the wielder's soul. If the soul was wounded, the Wild Magic could become vengeful and powerful or soft and healing. If the soul was happy, it was almost always joyful Magic bringing plenty and blessings. ___Almost._ "Shhh...breathe my dove. You must breathe."

She gulped in the air. "It it in my dreams-I see it over and over." She moaned against him, clutching him tightly. Abruptly the magic melted away, running in dark trickles like muddy rainwater. "I see it all over and over."

"What do you see, darling?" Loki studied the packages still on the table. For the moment, the table was again stone too clumsily shaped to even be called carved. Every packet was spared-save the hot peppers which were black stains where they had fallen. He gripped her closer.

"I see the Frost Giant," she wailed.

Loki started. A Jotun? Where would she have seen a Jotun? Surely it was a bad dream...

"It's not a bad dream!" she wailed. "I saw him." She shuddered again. "I had hidden in a basket of candles to see my father fight in battle against them. He was not as tall nor as strong as many. But he was brave―I thought he was bravest of all of _them._" She spat out the last word as though it were poisoned. Loki only held her, listening. "I tipped over and ran behind a rock to hide. My father would have beaten me if he had seen me, but it was so...___hypnotic_to watch him swing his war hammer. So I pulled the basket behind me so that I was hidden and I could watch. Then..," she shuddered again. "Then ___Thor_showed up."

Loki didn't even blink. Not even when the lights vanished entirely. "Thor?" he finally asked.

"Thor showed up in a blinding flash of lightning. That's what I remember—seeing the lightning whip and arc around him. The basket I was next to caught fire as the lightning burst away.

"The candles shot out—burning and dripping wax everywhere. I felt some land on my face-not badly, but enough that I cried out. Thor raced past me—_past me—_like I was nothing and charged through to the battle line. I saw him hit a Frost Giant with a hammer and it ___exploded__._ The next one—ah, Gods!—the next one flew back. It flew back into my father, impaling him with its axe.

"I stayed in my hiding place but I was scared. Scared of the bodies flying everywhere. Scared of the death that was drowning everything. I saw my father fall under a massive Jotun and was crushed. But that wasn't enough. I saw something that I will never forget..."

Loki tensed. "What was that?"

"I saw two of them―the Giants—picking through the dead. They were behind the battle lines and finding the injured and fallen. They were ___healing _their comrades! They were approaching, flanking the others so that they could retrieve their fallen.

"One crept close to me—close enough that I could see his sweat on his head. Close enough to hear him. I peeked out and saw him dragging one away. I must have made too much noise—because he looked at me—_right at me_. He saw the puddle of wax still burning and waved his hand. Then ice formed where it had been—with a little flourish of snowflakes.

"He began to drag the body away then. I saw the lightning coming closer. I smelled the heat and smoke. The Jotens were beginning to flee. The one I was watching flopped down and I saw the lightning pass through others in a wide arc. Thor raced through the camp again, shouting that they were trying to come from behind. Those left followed Thor as he charged through again. They didn't even notice that one of the Jotun was quite whole and alive as they ran past.

"And once they were past—the Jotun crouched up and looked at me. He knew that I had kept quiet—that I had seen him and seen the army. I could have touched Thor's cloak if I had wanted to. And I had been silent.

"He sort of nodded to me and I nodded back. Others were coming—more soldiers and more Jotun—and we were only briefly hidden in the chaos. But still, he tilted his head and stared at me, still as a stone and then to the wax and then to me again. Ever so slowly, he reached out and—for a moment, I felt the chill. I felt the burns ease. It was like nothing else—to feel the chill and the burns ease.

"He started to pull back then. We had no business together. He hadn't even really touched me—just swept one finger past my face long enough that I was relieved. He was going to fall back and then..."

"Then what?" Loki whispered in awe.

"Then ___Thor _showed up!" She spat his name and for a brief flicker, he could feel a rush of heat and hate. "Thor threw his hammer at the Jotun and smashed through him and the one he was trying to save. But I was too close and the lightning burned my whole face." She shook in her rage. "It was the last thing I saw."

"Did he see you there?" Loki asked, knowing he may as well asked if the moon saw her now. What Thor did not wish to see, he didn't see. He did not wish to see that Sif adored him, so it was not there. He wished to see victory, and it appeared.

Rather like magic.

"I screamed. I smelled my hair burning and the smell of flesh burning. Everything even tasted hot. I crawled away—looking for something to ease my pain. _Thor _raged on, leading men around to yet another front. I found the frozen ground and crept as close as I could against it. It was the only thing cold enough to feel cool. I pressed as close as I dared—and the burns felt better, but somehow the Jotun magic rejected the healer's magic or something. They could not make the burn better when they took me to the camp healers. They could only bandage me and tell me to pray for the best.

"I was sent to my village. But I was orphaned and blind and scarred. The attack had destroyed our fields and what the Jotun hadn't destroyed, ___Thor's_lightning and army did. So no one had extra to spare. They called me bad-luck. I tried begging on the corner, but it was never for long because the guards would come by and tell me to move along somewhere else. I could never get anyone to approach me." She hiccupped.

"Ahh...so that's what you were doing on the corner that night..." Loki offered as again the lights flickered to complete darkness.

"I wandered the streets—it was winter, but I was still warm. It was like my burns were still burning to keep me alive. I called out for mercy. For Thor to finish the job. And I was so sick of being sore and tired and alone. And hungry! I had never felt so hungry! I called out for Odin to do something."

"You called out to Loki too..." Loki replied with no inflection. He may as well have been asking about a still pond or a clear sky.

She nodded violently, shivering like she was stuck in a snowbank. "I thought that perhaps it was some monstrous trick. Or that if anyone would know of magic to make me whole, he would. I would have done anything." She cuddled closer to him and continued without stopping. "But no one would answer—only the alehouse tap man who occasionally offered to take me in if I would service the worst of his customers. He told me to come into his house or stop crying and die already.

"I ran from him—he sounded so angry. And then—I must have been blessed, then—because I tumbled into you."

Loki grimaced. She had indeed tumbled—into a swoon brought by her hunger and thirst. Her magic had flared up and pummeled the invisibility spell he had wrapped around himself. Thor had come out of the alehouse then, looking to see what was the matter and why the man was in such a froth. Perhaps Thor would have been merciful—granted her death or healing. But she had called to him, too—_Loki—_and _he _had gotten there first.

Wrapping them both in shadow—away from every eye, even Heimdall's—he had spirited her to this little island. He had been preparing this as a sanctuary for himself and had been sealing it with magic and making it impossible to see inside before tending to the more creature comforts. Thus, most things were only crudely put together. There was just enough to serve until he had time to make it comfortable rather than habitable. She had been feverish then—far closer to Hel and death than she had known—and delirious. He had to work quickly, but he had saved her life.

Then, her magic had appeared. He had been studying his book when suddenly, the entire cave had burst into light. She called out—aware that she was bandaged, her bruises tended to and her dress whole. Loki remembered blinking—that he had chosen a place of shadows and had only one candle burning and now the entire place lit up like the palace of Asgard.

She had called again when the fever finally broke. She asked who had tended her. Who had heard her? He had barely gotten to her before she was exhausted and slumped on the mat again. Sleepily, she had asked to work for her keep, begging him for that mercy.

Stunned, he had granted it to her. He stayed long enough to make the cave habitable—the warm spring that was so easily conjured from the ground to spout exactly high enough and into a conveniently bowl shaped area, the fresh water that flowed for her garden on an island surrounded by salt water and the brazier that allowed her to warm food yet didn't smoke. He had stored provisions, had already conjured the walls to hide the footpaths and the little beach, and had already made the shallow cave for animals since it seemed he could not find a book on cantrips without it involving eggs or feathers or something. The trees and wild plants were already here and not much more effort one way or the other. But the goats he had conjured and enchanted so that there would not be little presents everywhere in the meadow. The chickens he had brought back on one of his trips. The pots were brought back in spurts as he purchased provisions for her.

She had been stronger the next morning when he had brought her a crust of bread and some garlic and onion broth. It had been on the tip of his tongue to say his true name—just to see her quake in fear—but he had lied anyway. There was always the delicious agony of when to tell her the truth—that he was, in fact, Prince Loki of Asgard and brother to the apparently hated Thor. Now it was fortunate that he had made up the tale of the solitary merchant trader! He could easily explain his many absenses and his taste for fine things with nary a mis-step.

"And your magic, little dove? What of your magic?"

The woman nodded with a little, watery hiccup. "The magic we had to keep hidden—Papa and I. It was not to be trusted."

Loki smiled in wry amusement. "Why is magic not to be trusted?"

"It's ___my _magic that cannot be trusted," she insisted. On the verge of tears again, she curled against him like a cold cat. "It's...unreliable. It's not ___consistent__. _I can't call it up and have it do what I want."

"Oh it's not _that _bad," Loki protested.

She let out a watery giggle. "Here is different. It's quiet and peaceful and there's no distractions." Her hand wandered over him lightly. "Well... Maybe one important one. But no one will get hurt." Had the light been right, he could have seen that she went pale. "I was supposed to get trained. Get sent to school or something. But Papa was more interested in visiting the alehouse than in sending me to school. Or buying bread. Or anything. He said it was because he missed my mother..."

"He must have loved her very much," Loki murmurred softly, thoughtfully.

"He said he did. He tried to love me—but it was hard, I guess. Something would happen and suddenly something would freeze solid or burst into flame. Once a wandering cat tripped me and I said an..._impolite—_" This she said shamefully. "—word to it. The poor thing went bald for two days."

Loki had to laugh at that. Suddenly, she laughed too and the rooms lit up in even, pure, warm light. He was still cuddling her on the floor and smiling and saw no particular reason to move at the moment.

"Then there was the time that a chicken pecked my hand. I had some colorful language then and it turned purple. The eggs we couldn't sell because they came out green. Papa washed my mouth out with soap he was so mad. But it was language that he had said—his friends and fellow soldiers had said them..." She shrugged. "The chicken we had to keep in a separate pen for a while because it was just...ridiculously purple." She laughed again. "Despite the green eggs, Papa found someone who would buy the purple feathers. It was someone in the village market, but I never found out who. We were able to buy ham and butter and cheese with that..." She sighed. "Unfortunately, the poor chicken molted within the week and the new feathers came in the same rusty brown as before. 'Twas most confusing! Papa hauled me out of the house and told me to curse at the poor bird again. He held my hands and had it peck me over and over but no matter what I said, the bird remained brown." She thought about it for a moment. "Oh no! Do you think there's probably some poor person out there who bought a lovely purple hat and that now has brown chicken feathers in it?"

Loki couldn't help the laughter that rolled out of him. At least one of those "poor people" had been Frigga—who had had a straw hat with a wide brim to wear in the sun. It had a lovely gold medallion surrounded surrounded by deep purple feathers on the side. Or, at least, that's what the Allfather had sworn. When she had taken it out of its gifting box, the feathers had all faded to a rusty brown color. She had smiled in thanks and worn it, declaring it the most beautiful one she owned.

His little dove yawned sleepily, drawn to his warmth. So, he wrapped her up in his arms and carried her to the dais. The mat had become a mat again, though the steps were still sharp and firm to the dais. He crooned to her, softly—singing some silly nonsense song. The offensive peppers were smudges of ash on the table, but most everything else was spared. She slept on, even without the extra nudge from his sleeping spell.

He was most reluctant to let his burden go—almost regretful. Suddenly, the regret soured in him. Why should he feel regret for letting her sleep? Why should he not—full of energy and vigor—pursue his own studies and so forth while she slept? But it was sweet, to have his arms around such a cuddly package that trusted him so completely. Rather like the palace cats he had adopted in his youth. He had never seen such animals so prone to random mischief and chaos, and who had curled around his feet or beside him as they dozed.

But this was different than the women at court he had occasionally rutted with. He had learned quickly to stay far from the virgins, the young widows and the wallflowers—the ones with wide, innocent eyes that watched for a chance to trap some male into wedlock. Fortunately, many of those had skipped over him to watch Thor instead. It was the ones who were trying to be crafty—the ones that approached him in order to get close to Thor—that angered him the most. The honest ones—married or not—were the ones that he deigned to entertain for some brief moment of time. The ones that were simply scratching an itch as he was, and not interested in more than the most brief "Hello" before bypassing courting and moving straight to the bedroom. They were at least honest with themselves and with him. Whether it was curiosity or lust or desire for coin, they were no more interested in the pleasantries and dancing attendance than he was and equally uninterested in children.

This one was so different. She wanted his company. He needed to be neither a prince, nor honest, nor anything more than company. He had wooed her without even his own name and she demanded no tricks, no magic, no illusions, no favors, no connections, no flattery. She liked his wild stories and parried with wild fancies of her own. She liked his laugh. She liked touching him. She liked cooking for him. She liked "decorating" for him to his own tastes. His card tricks and dice games were lost on her, as were his illusions. She knew...somewhere in her heart of hearts...that he was most likely not "Locca" and a "merchant trader", but she hadn't questioned it further and instead had been content as he had regaled her with wild tales of his exploits in "trading".

And, most importantly, she truly believed that she hated Thor. She believed it so much that it could call the most violent and vivid forms of Wild Magic. Of course, only a very great fool would test this belief. Here there was no meddling from the Warriors Three, Sif was not baiting him or slicing into him with cutting remarks (regardless of the truth of them), no duties or rank. There was only the two of them.

Asgard would freeze and Jotenheim would burn to the ground before he'd disturb the delicate balance that he had here.

The second day that Thor could not find his brother, he admitted defeat. At first it had been a bit of a game to gather his friends to hunt down his brother. But like most every time before, his brother had not desired to be found and he could not be. Odin and Frigga had retired to their own apartments-an occurrence that happened often enough to give one pause to wonder if there would be a third contender for the crown—and were not much help. Finally, it was time to simply give up and go to Heimdall.

The great guardian of the Bifrost was an imposing man of great height. He was so still and so quiet that at times it seemed he was made of gold itself. When one approached, it was almost a surprise to see that the gold was splendid armor over a man of dark, smooth complexion and golden eyes like the most secretive of cats. It was said not one creature breathed in Asgard that he did not know it and mark it.

The small band of warriors galloped up on their steady war horses. Some distance away, they dismounted in respect and walked towards the guardian. Thor smiled his most winning smile and opened his mouth to speak.

"He has not come through here," Heimdall answered the unspoken question.

Thor had come through the Bifrost many times and Heimdall continued to remain an enigma. He rarely spoke and when he did, it was precisely the answer to the words unspoken with no words left for poetry or riddles or clever turns of phrase. It was plain and truthful, like a smooth stone.

Sif looked at the Warriors Three in surprise. She had been sure that Loki had come or gone through here and had been the one to suggest asking Heimdall in the first place. Flushing, she walked forward with her mount to stand beside Thor. "Surely you have seen Loki somewhere?" Heimdall's gaze, which seemed to see the whole of Asgard behind them and yet not focused on any one thing, glanced briefly at her. "Or has grown wings that he could leave and return without you knowing?"

"It would be better for you if he had," Heimdall said plainly.

"Enough," Thor said impatiently. "He will not be found unless he wishes."

"True enough," Heimdall replied confidently. "But even the most clever of birds may yet leave a trail." Again gazing at the vast city of Asgard, Heimdall continued. "There is an island far to the west of Asgard. There, a woman is seen. Loki vanishes and then she begins to vanish and reappear."

"Too convenient," Hogun grunted. "We find the woman and we find Loki."

"It will not be easy," Heimdall added. "She is more than she appears."

This gave Thor pause. Heimdall never breathed a word without purpose. "Is there anything else you can tell us?" Thor asked.

"From the top of the lookout tower, you may see the island. However, be warned that she has seen too much and will not likely listen to you, Thor Odinson."

Thor frowned at that ominous warning. The horses stirred restlessly, eager for a run. Sketching a bow at Heimdall, he turned back towards the palace with his scarlet cloak flowing restlessly behind him.

Sif shifted her quiver and bow and began to follow him. She fell into step beside him, frowning as she watched the Golden Prince of Asgard sink deeply into his thoughts. It was fortunate that she was similar in height so that she could match his long strides, even in her light armor. "It is all right, Thor," she smiled thinly. "We will find him and bring him to task."

"It worries me still," Thor admitted. "He so relishes besting me that he usually beats me to the negotiating table. He will be cross that he missed that. Then the weaver—so terrified at his anger—and mentions that he has bought blue cloth. Blue! Whenever has my brother shown interest in cloth or weaving or sewing?" His fist clenched around his hammer's shaft in anger. "And this is two days, Sif! Two days without a word."

Finally stopping, Thor hoisted himself upon his steed. His friends followed suit quickly. "We will find this island and see if this woman may show us where Loki has been hiding."

There was the usual stares and prostrating as the friends wandered through town. Handsome Fandral turned to the west to inquire about a fishing vessel. Sif, wrapped in a cloak from her steed's pack, ventured to the markets for lamps and oil, extra cloaks and packs. Volstagg, as had happened before, was sent to the kitchens and markets for travel rations.

Thor gathered the steeds together and led them to the royal stables, stewing in his anger. Loki was prone to tricks―from practical jokes to vicious pranks designed to humiliate or to shame. He was even prone to absences where he did not wish to be found doing whatever it was he wanted to be doing at that moment. Generally, this was simply to get out of whatever Thor himself wished to be doing, but occasionally it was to go off to study some arcane form of knowledge. It was unsettling that this study or prank was taking two days to bring to fruition.

Loki himself was somewhat unsettled. He did not often spend time away from the palace. It was devilishly difficult to keep one fingers on the pulse of the comings and goings when one was away, but he did so relish the time that he had spent here. With regrets, he gathered his paramour into his arms. "Sweeting, it is time for me to go."

She stirred restlessly. "Not yet, please, Locca." She stretched, but not so far he had to break his hold. "Just one more time..."

He laughed in his sultry, wicked way. "Ah...so lonely, little dove. Perhaps just one more time. Then the last of my gifts and then good-bye."

It was an hour later when he rose and picked up his breeches and shirt. She rose as well and slipped on the clay colored dress and walked to front of the cave with him. "Where does your trading take you today?"

"Asgard," he replied shortly, watching her face carefully.

She paled and began worrying her lip. "Oh." What little of her brow was unlined and unscarred wrinkled in a worried fashion. "You'll be careful, won't you?"

Loki laughed shortly. "Of course." He dropped a quick peck to her cheek. "I am always careful."

She looked unconvinced. "I mean it. Be careful."

Loki smiled at her, though she couldn't see it. For a moment, it was such a buzzing, happy feeling to have someone care enough that he was safe and sound. "Of course." He picked up the last paper wrapped package. "Now, let us have this then. Something to keep you amused while I am gone."

Her hands blankly felt the paper. "Oh...but... you have brought so much," she mumbled. "I..." He pressed it against her hands and she gave in, carefully opening the package. Out tumbled a heavy piece of folded fabric—her fingers told her that much. "Fabric... Tell me, please, Locca—what color is it?"

"The color of the sky at midday. The color of the sea. The color of blue birds."

She smiled widely, stroking the fabric. "I love blue. How did you know?"

Loki smiled smugly. "I will expect to see you in a new dress next time. Looking like a breath of spring."

"Surely the color of spring is green?" she laughed.

"Mmmm...perhaps. But not this time." He watched her fingers drift over the fabric. It was not a soft, luxurious fabric like his mother would wear, but instead a sturdy fabric that would wash and wear well. "But where is the thread?"

"Oh, Locca... Thread too?" she smiled. "That is too much. Surely it is the profit from an entire voyage for all of the gifts you have brought me?" She stretched the fabric out on the table. "But I must have dropped it... Do you see it?"

Loki frowned. "I do not..." He glanced around. The thread was sky blue and not easily missed. "I do not see it."

She laughed then. "That will make this a challenge then." She threw what might have been a sultry pose. "I don't suppose it means that you will return quickly?"

Loki tried to echo her laugh. The infuriating nonsense of it all. Could no one do anything right? Instead he said, "I'm afraid not, darling. But when I do, you will have your thread."

She nodded, a small smile still remaining on her lips. "Then I shall have to wait until then. Perhaps you can tell me of the dresses in Asgard and I will design this to match them?"

He laughed outright at that. There was no possibility that she could copy the ornate designs without sight. The draping layers of cloth maybe, but the intricate embroidery was definitely impossible.

She stuck out her tongue impudently at his laughter. "Perhaps I will make a cloak instead!" Her grin turned sly and teasing. "Or a...a potato sack!"

"No. Save the cloth. When I return, I will have the thread. Now, I must be off."

She nodded and was smiling up until he closed the door. Then she tossed the fabric onto the table and fled to the back where the mat on the cold stone floor awaited her. Once more the cave is lit only by the uncertain light of the magical, glowing mushrooms and a single candle in a lantern that Loki left behind.

Wrapped in sorcery to hide from Heimdall here in the open, Loki stepped down to the beach—unaware that Thor and his friends were at that moment boarding a craft of their own to meet him. His own craft was a magical creation that vaguely resembled a longboat, but would lift out of the water to fly through the air to his home in Asgard in the same invisible manner that cloaked his comings and goings. He growled slightly, gritting his teeth, thinking that he had given good coin to have both cloth and thread only to be cheated. Perhaps he would find some suitable prank for the fat oaf of a shopkeeper... The thought seemed unreasonably churlish for a moment before he discarded it entirely. After all, it did give him a reason to return quickly.

Not an hour later, Frigga watched with amusement as Loki studied his book while walking down the hallway. As usual, the maids and servants gave him a wide berth and as long as they did he paid them little attention. But, unlike most every other time, he was humming to himself ever so softly.

"Mother," he greeted as he glanced up. "You look lovely today."

"You look well, my son," she returned with amusement. She glanced at his book―noting the title of a poetry book she liked. "However, you would do well to find Thor and Odin."

"Oh?" Loki's eyes lit up with curiosity and his brows lifted.

"We haven't been able to find you." She shrugged. "For two days, my dear." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thor was in a froth because of some negotiations. Odin gave him leave to find you. He was to return some goods to you and then to forward the Allfather's command to spend time in leisure together." She smiled at her younger son's worried frown. "I'm sure that it can be settled quickly."

Loki snapped his book closed. "I see." He glanced around. "Where is Thor? Where are the contracts?" His eyes gleamed an emerald that matched his greatcoat.

"I believe that the Allfather has them. Thor is out finding you. I expect he will show up after a day romping with his friends."

"And the goods? Where are they?"

Frigga laughed softly. "I have them, my son. They are in my solar." Loki finally smiled and offered his arm. "Though I have to confess that I am envious of the green silk. And Thor said it was a gift too!"

Loki steeled himself to look pleasantly interested and not to spoil this moment. "So someone likes me..."

"Mmmm," Frigga said. "The poor woman said that she had forgotten your thread and was terribly sorry. The piece of silk is a gift from her."

Loki smiled cooly. "Then I will have to thank her."

"Here we are," Frigga smiled. Sure enough, just inside the doorway was the woven basket with the silk and the sky blue skein of thread on top.

Loki bowed to her and took the basket without further comment and without answering the pointed glances, begging for answers around the mysterious skein of thread. Silently, he walked down the hallway, turned a corner and vanished into another area of the palace. He deposited his goods in his private chambers and then sought out Odin.

Odin was in his own study, surrounded by ancient tomes of leather and gold and mounds of papers and scrolls. A massive fireplace dominated one wall and an enormous map of the realms covered the opposite wall. Somewhere in the piles of books and papers was a simply huge desk of the finest grained wood.

"Loki!" Odin hailed him heartily. "We have missed you."

"Father," Loki answered more shortly than was strictly polite. "I understand that there were negotiations that I missed?"

"Yes—" Odin answered in a carefully cheerful voice. "The contracts that I have...here."

"Could I see them?" Loki asked. "I would like to know how well Thor represented the interests of Asgard."

Odin clapped him on the back with a wide smile. "You would be proud of him. Let me show you."

"As you say, Father," Loki nodded and he sat down to study the papers.

Thor's friends quite enjoyed the trip, making it entirely longer than it really needed to be by stopping to fish, feast, and drink. Thus, they arrived loudly and with high spirits, making jokes of every nature.

When Sif saw the immense walls of rock and the surrounding whirlpools, she dropped her drinking horn with a clatter. "Thor! All of you―watch the rocks!"

Volstaff grabbed the rudder and pulled with all of his considerable might. The craft shuddered violently as it slowly turned. For a moment, Fandral slid across the deck as the ship tilted. Sif shrieked and clung to the mast―her battle fury was no match for the sharply sloping decks. Thor scrambled across the decks to Volstaff and pushed the rudder.

"Great!" Hogun grunted sarcastically. "Now what?"

Thor smiled at them, watching as they now floated parallel to the stone wall on their right side. "Now we figure out how to enter."

Sif rolled her eyes. "How do we even know that it isn't some impossible entrance―half-way up the cliff or something?" She eyed the currents warily. "How did we let you talk us into this?"

Thor laughed as Volstaff pushed the rudder slightly to avoid a whirl of current. "Giving up already?"

Sif growled at him, slowly loosening her death grip on the mast. "Fie on you! Those words will—"

"Prove them wrong then!" Fandrall laughed heartily. "Besides, I think that we're almost there!" Fandrall pointed slightly off the starboard bow. "See there! How the water seems to leap backwards?"

"Aye," said Sif. "It's called a whirlpool."

"I think not," Thor said. "The circle is incomplete. We will be passing it soon enough to see at any rate."

Another few moments passed quietly as each pair of eyes scanned the rock. Sif sighed, blinking in the bright reflection of the sun on the water. Then, she spotted it―the narrow passage between the two layers of rock. For a brief breath, she saw the narrow slit open on to a smooth cresent of a beach. "There!" she cried. "Fandrall was right."

The little boat sailed past the opening.

"No―Volstagg, you missed it! It was right there!" Sif shouted.

"And we would have been crushed attempting to make the turn," Volstagg replied sagely. "We circle around and approach from the west."

Thor only nodded thoughtfully as he stared at the immense cliffs. There had been nothing for miles―no birds, no islands and certainly no villages. If anyone lived here, it was...incredible. The roar of the waves here was deafening. "A man could grow mad here," he remarked thoughtfully, studying the utter lack of anything.

"Unless he's mad already," Sif muttered under her breath.

"What was that?" Thor snapped. He gestured lamely. "I know you have complaint with Loki, Sif, but he is still my brother."

Sif said nothing more and settled against the curve of the side of the boat to await landing. Suddenly the good fishing, the large dolphins play, the feast and fun in the sunny waters seemed rather...unbearable. _Trust Loki's very thought to ruin a good outing,_ she thought to herself, huddling in her cloak.

True to Volstagg's word, the wide circle led them right into the narrow opening. The cove was almost as defeaningly silent as the roar of the winds and surf beyond the walls. A fierce wave had lifted them almost out of the water to force them into the opening, only to abandon them on the shifting sands at the bottom. With a growl, Thor took his hammer and brought it down with a crack on the water. Thunder boomed and the wave rose again to deposit them into the cove.

"What dread place has Loki picked?" Hogun wondered, examining the beach. There was nothing to indicate that anyone ever had seen this place before. Tall rock walls climbed up to the middle of the mountain and only the shallow beach was within. The tall black rock that stuck out of the beach sands was the only thing to lash a boat to, but why would anyone go here to this desloate place? "Perhaps there is a cave? Or some kind of path?"

"There must be," Sif replied grimly. "It is Loki—"

"No!" Thor boomed as he leapt out of the boat to lash it to the rock. "Heimdall said there was a woman to speak to. We will heed his words."

"But Loki does not appear to be here," Volstagg pointed out. "There is not so much as a sea bird here." He looked around uncertainly. "Perhaps he has gone back to Asgard. We could be back in time for lunch..."

Fandral, Hogun and Sif laughed at Volstagg's comment. Sif said with a smile, "Trust you to think with your stomach. Did you not bring enough for lunch, too?"

"Well..." Volstagg laughed back. "Perhaps there are a few morsels left."

"And our fish, good friends," Thor pointed out.

"As long as we have fire," Hogun said pointedly. "There doesn't seem to be a lot of driftwood."

"And as long as we're here―we will explore," Thor smiled, his arms wide. "Let us see what my brother finds so intriguing about this place."

"Aside from the fact that no one with an ounce of good sense would come so far?" Sif pointed out pithily.

Thor rolled his eyes. "Let us simply explore."

The friends clamored out of the boat. Volstagg lost at drawing straws and was happily left behind to guard the boat that serenely floated in the water. Hogun and Fandral were to search the left hand side and Thor and Sif were to search the right hand side.

Hogun drew out several small knives. "Here―if you must go somewhere, mark your passing. In these rocks, we won't hear you, but we can follow your trail." He handed each warrior one, glancing at the tall rocks above them. "I would not be surprised if Loki had traps about or a maze within."

Each drew their knife and nodded in thanks.

"Well, let us see what we can find," Fandral grinned. "Perhaps buried treasure?"

"Oh please!" Sif groaned. Buried treasure would make them even more insufferable as they patted themselves on the back for their wit and wisdom.

"The treasure I seek is my brother," Thor nodded. "Anything else you may keep." He gestured towards the cliffs. "We will meet down on the beach when the sun can no longer be seen overhead."

"Come along then," Fandral grinned at Hogun's dour face. "First to the treasure gets the spoils."

"First returning gets to figure out how to get us back out of here," Hogun replied.

Sif and Thor picked their way through the rocks. Occasionally, there was a lovely colored rock or one with pretty stripes that caught Sif's eye, but she shook her head and determinedly looked on. ___"Poor Thor," _she thought. He w_orried over Loki and could scarcely move in here but for his armor._

And Thor was getting stuck in the narrow spaces. His armor was simply too massive to pass. "I think that I should have stayed behind with Volstagg," he muttered as Sif tried to help him through.

"It is no use. You must take the armor off."

"So my brother bests me in walking amongst the rocks?"

Sif sighed and then resigned herself―with no small amount of female interest―to watching as Thor doffed his cloak and armor. Then they had to carry it back to the beach in pieces. Hogun looked at them glumly as Fandral cleaned the fish.

"No sign?" Hogun asked.

"Not yet," Sif answered. "Except of narrow passages."

"I was stuck!" Thor laughed. "Now I know better how you feel Volstagg!"

Volstag's mustache twitched in uncertain amusement. "I don't know how to take that." He gestured towards the other two. "Apparently there is nothing along that side of the beach."

"We will look further," Thor responded. "Heimdall is not prone to playing tricks, so this woman must be important."

Sif's unpleasant muttering followed him. Suddenly, she pointed. "There! Look there!"

Everyone looked at the rocks and then back at Sif. "No―I saw it! A shadow line."

"Shadows? We're chasing shadows?" Fandral drawled slowly.

Sif growled and darted to the rocks. It had been there―somewhere in the rocks―but they all looked like giant bookends to her. Then, quickly, she dropped her hand to the rock. There was the slightest of indents in the rock―a rickety line cutting into it. Then to the next rock and the next. "I found it!" she shrieked excitedly.

Thor bounded up the way, following Sif as she traced through the path and followed by Hogun and Fandral. At the top, queer echos of animal sounds greeted them, though there was no way to tell in the bouncing echos in the rocks which way they had come from.

Fandral suddenly appeared to one side. Grimacing at Sif's glare of surprise, he said, "There are apparently teleport traps. I stopped to mark the path and found that there were three different marks. Then I lost you. I kept heading upward, and here I am."

"We stay together, Fandral," Thor nodded in understanding. "Sif has found the way."

"If it's not another trap," Hogun remarked glumly.

"Sniff," Sif commanded softly. "Loki has been here."

Everyone took deep breaths in wonder. "How do you know?" Thor rumbled softly.

"His scent," Sif replied in a whisper. "He has a...smell." She frowned as she attempted to put her finger on it. "A certain..._odor_. Incense or something." She gestured as impatiently as she finished lamely.

"You never comment on ___my _scent," Fandral winked at her. "Is there something you want to tell us, dear lady?"

Sif resisted the urge to smack him. Very hard. With a large rock.

Thor rested his arm between them. "Come―let us find Loki before we must return to the beach. The sun is fleeing us."

At the very summit, Sif found the plain door. Nothing else could be seen nor heard save for the animals somewhere on the island. Tentatively, she knocked at it.

Thor stared at the door for some time, expecting an answer when there plainly was none to be had. Then, he pushed past Sif.

"Heimdall said that she was not ordinary―and that she wouldn't listen to you, Thor," Hogun pointed out.

"When have I had problems with a woman?" Thor answered.

"Don't answer that," Sif snapped. Then she cocked her head. "I hear something."

Instantly everyone ducked behind the scant covering and fell into silence.

A heavily hooded and cloaked figure steadily wove up from the other side, whispering a soft song into the air and carrying a basket. Scarcely her lips could be seen beneath the deep hood. She fumbled for a bit with the door as Sif gestured at Fandral, who stood in the path.

Some random rock ticked down the path as Fandral stood, glancing at his friends. There was almost no cover for Thor―no twist in the path wide enough to hide him. Clearing his throat, he glanced at the suddenly silent and still figure.

"My lady," he began, bowing.

"Who is it? Locca? Is that you?" she queried in a confused and weary tone.

"My lady, I am Fandral-"

She almost dropped her basket and her face mirrored shock. "You are not welcome here. Please leave." Shuffling around, she pulled open the door the slightest crack. Her legs felt like buckling at the strange voice and her stomach lurched unpleasantly.

"Beautiful damsel—" Fandral began again gallantly. Then he ducked as she swung the basket wildly. Eggs slid out and landed with unerring splats against his breeches. With a shriek she slid into the door, pummeling Fandral all the while.

"Leave! Leave now fool!" she shouted. It was foolish to shout―there was no one to hear her cries. With Locca gone, she was entirely alone. Terrified, she tugged on the door, not seeing the clever fingers that wrapped around it.

Fandral howled as she slammed the door on his fingers. He howled and pulled them back, narrowly avoiding having the door bang on them again as it slammed shut. Sticking them in his mouth, he sucked on the sting. "That has never happened before," he murmured in wonder.

"You are losing your touch, old friend," Thor joked lamely. He stepped forward and hammered the door as Fandral tossed his hair into place and stared at his bruised knuckles.

"Leave!" the muffled voice ordered from inside.

"Not until—" Thor began roughly, raising his voice to make sure she heard him. Then he was caught in a blaze of light and fire. Lightning seemed to dance around the cavern. His eyes swam dizzily as Sif dragged him backwards. Shaking his head, he joined the warriors as they stared at the brilliant snakes of flame dancing around the cavern.

Then, just as suddenly, they were gone.

"So―who wants to be in pain next?" Hogun asked.

"Ahhgh! Men!" Sif moaned. With timid steps, she lightly tapped the door.

"No!" the voice inside shrieked.

"I am out here," Sif began, wishing for a blessed moment to have Loki's tongue with sweet words. "Please―we are looking for a friend and brother."

"No friend of ___Thor's _is here!"

Sif frowned. With a sardonic nod, she agreed, "That may be the case―but a friend said that you could help us find him."

"No!" came the answer again. Then, "Just leave me in peace! Hasn't _Thor _done enough already?!"

"Sif, _look out!" _Thor bellowed and snatched Sif from the doorway. The snakes of lightning that erupted at first became streaks of shadowy chains with immense claws sticking out of them. They rattled against the rocks on both sides of the doorway. Sif jumped out of their reach, but they clattered noisily and clipped the nearby plants easily.

"We will get no answers here," Hogun said glumly. "Not tonight at least."

Sif nodded absently, watching at the chains became thorny branches on their side. The branches seemed to sparkle with hidden embers. As a group, they headed back to Volstagg.

Back on the beach, Thor glanced at Volstagg. "Have we provisions for a stay here?"

Volstagg slurped his drink from his horn. "Perhaps. How long?"

"She is proving most―uncooperative," Fandral said. "You wouldn't believe what happened." Quietly, he told what he had seen to Volstagg and the surprising, hooded lady.

"Strange, isn't it? She did not know Fandral? And she did not react violently to our appearance?" Hogun asked softly.

"Only after Thor—" Sif said in wonder. "Spoke..."

For another day, the friends slept on the beach and tried wait it out. Volstagg was the first to mention home because the rations were running slim, even with their attempts to bring in fish and eels.

"There's nothing else to do, I guess," Thor sounded dejected. "She'll not come down here."

"I've never known a woman to resist her own curiosity," Fandral added. "Except you, dear Lady Sif. She has not even approached to see if we are still here."

"Unless she isn't seen from the cliffs," Hogun grunted again.

"I must try again," Fandral said dreamily.

"Just what you've always wanted―a woman who could resist you," Sif said.

"Let us all be silent in the passages," Thor directed. "Sif―it will be up to you to meet with her."

"How?" Sif asked warily.

"Tell her the truth. That we are leaving at sunrise tomorrow. Ask her if she would help us."

"And when you are standing there?" Sif smiled. "Somehow I don't think that you standing over us will be helpful."

"I'll not interfere."

So it was that Sif came to be standing at the little rocky landing as she came out of her cave. Quickly, she latched the door and turned away to head down the opposite side from the beach.

Sif quickly cleared her throat.

At that, the figure darted for the doorway again, only to be foiled by Sif's foot jammed against it and trapping her outside.

"Lady," Sif tried to begin. "We have no quarrel with you—"

The other female dropped her now empty basket and began running her fingers up and down the doorway, desperately feeling for the block. "Then you will leave here." Tugging again in vain, she sobbed viciously and began backing down the cliff side. "Please―there is nothing to steal. My...my husband will return soon."

"We do not wish you harm," Sif said softly. "We simply need to know if you have seen..." Her voice died uncertainly.

"Seen what?" came the wary reply.

"Who―rather," Sif replied. "That is to say—."

"Who?" the little figure quaked. Flat against the rock wall, the woman shook in terror. "Are you alone?"

"I..." Sif looked at her friends. "That is―I'm alone right now."

The woman shook violently. "Good." Then her head shook slowly. "Please―there is nothing for anyone else here. Please just leave." She wrung her hands. "No one else is here. No one else should be here."

"Now, see here—" Thor's voice boomed over the ladies' voices.

Suddenly he arced backward as a force of something hit him. Sif jumped towards him. The girl shrieked in agony and terror and tore for the door. Whatever it was―the hit made his head swim sickeningly. Sif lunged towards him, dragging him backwards.

The doorway shut with a bang and Thor crouched down in pain.

"Loki is not here or he would have come out by now," Sif remarked. "And apparently, we should leave." She stared at Thor. "Or at least you should."

"Who knows how hard it will be to reach her next time?" Hogun demanded glumly. "Or what new traps will be here?"

Fandrall sighed. "Let us go back down. We must wait again with patient Volstagg."

"At least you are not bruised again," Thor grunted as they began the descent.

"We will need to head back," Volstagg said plainly after everyone had told their tale. "There's nothing left to eat." Even Fandrall looked glum. Hogun simply was as he ever was―grim and pragmatic. Thor's face mirrored his friends gloomy mood and he only nodded in agreement.

Hogun was silent as he considered the situation. Thor obviously was not going to get anywhere. Not Sif either―judging from the chains that had danced around her head. At least Fandral had only been pelted with eggs and had his knuckles bruised and one finger almost broken.

"Let me try," he said softly.

Everyone stared at him. "Are you sure?" Thor asked quietly. "Do you have a plan?"

"I might," Hogun grunted in return.

"It wouldn't hurt to try," Fandral grinned. "Hogun's plans are sound."

With that, Hogun crept up the cliff. Taking off his cloak, he rubbed it into the dusty ground. Wrapping up quickly, he sat in a little niche to watch the doorway. From a few feet away he looked like just another rock in the passageway.

It was over an hour before his patience was rewarded. The door slid open and she slipped out in her heavy gray cloak, shutting the door behind her. She cocked her head for a moment, and then scrambled down the path to the other side.

Hogun crept down behind her―saying nothing. As silently as he was able, he followed her from a distance. She turned a few times, pausing and sometimes even facing him. He would freeze, but then his own curiosity got the better of him and the next time, he held his breath and stood only a few feet from her. After a few moments, she continued, still twisting and craning around.

Hogun followed her to the meadow. She let her goats out and shooed the chickens around. She fumbled through the garden, gathering the green weeds and dumping them in the goat's shelter. She spilled her powder once. The jug was quickly filled with goat milk and there were 5 eggs to be gathered.

For just a moment, she turned towards the sun, her restless fingers plucking at her cloak as Hogun held his breath again, watching from behind.

Hogun studied her carefully. Her hands shook as though she had had a lengthy fast. The wind blew in from the cliffs, dragging her scent to him―somewhat salty but clean and only the slightest scent of some incense or soap. She did no magic―simply tended her chores as hurriedly as she could. She would take a breath of the sunlit air only to go back to her garden or to tending the goats that wandered aimlessly and hungrily.

Hogun waited until she was by the fresh water spring, bathing her face and then crept up the path. The door was a simple, plain door that opened silently onto a dark room. In the spill of light from the doorway, he could see two dresses laid across the stone table, along with a rough chair or stool. There was a brazier along the wall―one of the camp stoves of Asgard with a tiny compartment for baking and a top for cooking that emitted neither light nor smoke―and most every niche of rock held pots or jars. There was no sign of candle nor lantern in the entire place.

Slipping inside, he pressed against the wall. There was nowhere to hide, but he slouched against the wall hopefully and closed the door quietly. The cave's only light came from the back where there was the sound of splashing water, but Hogun did not dare stir to investigate further.

She appeared soon after him, closing the door into darkness again before folding her dresses and fixing her meal. She opened her jars and packages. Hogun almost didn't dare to breathe―the scent of the bread she toasted on the metal stovetop was intense, the smell of the cheese as she sliced it was amazingly sharp and the fresh branches of rosemary she slid into a jar almost overpowered him. Every other sense was in overdrive in the almost complete darkness.

She took her pot and walked to the hot spring. The water splash changed in rhythm and tone as she held out her pot to collect the water. The sound of drops in the metal pan were thundering in the relative silence of the cave. A vague dark silhouette wandered back and slid her eggs into the hot water.

She poured her milk and ate quickly. "Locca," she whispered in the still air. "You were wise to bring me two loaves of bread. But hurry back and make them leave." A smile whine escaped her, along with a sniff. "Please―help me―there is one who sounds like Thor and I am so very afraid."

The crust of bread fell to the table with a soft thud as she sobbed into her hand. "Please come back, Locca. Trade well and return from Asgard happily, but do it soon." She hiccuped and continued haphazardly, "I hate him―I truly do. Why did Thor have to show up now?"

Hogun listened as she sobbed noisily, stumbling over the singular chair. She righted the thing and sat down heavily, weeping. Hogun steeled himself―the onslaught of the scent of food almost unbearably begging him to move to reach for it. Fandral might have been able to soothe her with pretty words, talk her round her sadness to peace. Volstagg might have tempted her with delicacies and cheered her with ribald jokes. Sif―alone—might have been able to speak to her and brought her out. But now there was just him and every bone in his body was sure that she would not tolerate his intrusion any better than his fellows'.

Of course, it could have been worse. Thor could have snuck in with him. Thor who had only spoken to her and been pummled by magic twice for his troubles.

She finally stirred restlessly, fumbling for a basket that Hogun could not see. Softly, she counted. "There are only 12 left, Locca. 12 slices of bread." She hiccuped and sighed. "At least there is milk and eggs. And mint for tisanes. I will save what I can, Locca." She smiled in the darkness. "I look like a frog when I cry, Locca. You know I do."

She padded to the back again and Hogun heard the soft sigh of fabric falling as she undressed and a splash of water. Then he moved, sliding out the door and closing it as stealthily as possible.

The friends saw Hogun appear at the far end of the beach. Thor grinned in the dim light at Hogun's dusty form. "Well met, my friend," he smiled. "What did you learn?"

"There is a woman―alone—living in the caves." Hogun coughed a little, his throat dry. Volstagg poured a bit of ale into his horn. Hogun raised the horn in thanks. "She didn't notice me—"

"Sly devil," Fandrall teased. "You'll have to show me that trick! How ever did you manage it?"

"She is blind," Hogun said simply.

"Blind?" Sif sputtered. "But how? How?!" She gestured up and down the beach.

Hogun stared at his horn. "She reacted to the sound of your voices." He gave Thor a telling glance. "Volstagg could have seen her as I did if he had a lighter step."

"So what wizardry struck us?" Thor asked. "A trick of Loki's or hers? And what is her quarrel with me?"

"I saw no wizardry―no strange herbs or spices, no circles or scrying bowls. She didn't even have a light inside her cave." Hogun considered his friends. "Her home is stone with stone fittings. She lives sparsely with her goats and chickens and garden. She has three dresses―two of which were drying on her stone table when I entered."

"Was there nothing else?" Thor asked.

"She called for someone called 'Locca'. I gather that he trades with Asgard and is away."

"Asgard?" Sif whispered softly. "Another of Loki's lies." She spat into the fire. "Assuming that this woman is not one of Loki's little illusions as well."

Hogun shook his head thoughtfully. "There is nothing of Loki in there. Not a comb, a knife or a shirt. Everything was...barren." He shrugged. "If Loki is visiting there, it is possible she doesn't know it."

"My brother does like his comforts," Thor remarked thoughtfully. "it is unlikely he will return to such an uncomfortable place."

"What if we had brave Hogun approach her to tell her he has news of this 'Locca'," Volstagg suggested.

"As soon as she was within earshot she might do something...unpleasant," Hogun replied, glancing at the injuries.

"It is too soon," Thor decided. He grimaced as he absently rubbed a purpling bruise. "She would only suspect Hogun and fight him." Shrugging, he gestured to the boat. "We will return home. If Loki returns, then we will ask him about this place."

Everyone agreed and wrapped up in their cloaks for another uncomfortable stay on the beach. When the sky lightened enough to see, it was almost noon and they pushed their boat through the narrow passage back out to sea. Everyone was uneasily silent as they sped back to Asgard. Hogun remained grim and thoughtful. Fandrall kept glaring at his knuckles and the retreating island. Volstagg was the sole cheerful member as he considered what sort of platters of meat and drink he would indulge in first. Sif alternated between glaring at the island and overhead, scanning for westward bound craft. Thor could only pace, watching as Asgard came closer.

Hogun finally stopped him. "Thor," he said softly. "We should go back to her."

"Why?" Thor replied, scanning the horizons.

"She is hungry," Hogun answered simply.

"Hungry?"

Hogun nodded. "Her cave is spartan. The monks of my homeland have―_had_-such chambers as they purged themselves of sins." He sighed. "Her hands shake and are frail in their tasks. Her existence is tenuous and as we have camped on her beach, she has remained in her cave―apparently on potatoes, cheese and bread with water.

"There is more―perhaps. As I sat in her cave, I smelled the odor of illness. Not much, but as though she had been beset with some malady."

"That might mean that she is not so poorly off as we thought," Thor countered. "Simply ill."

Hogun grunted.

"But nothing of Loki?" Thor asked, not really expecting an answer. "No...-" He struggled to recall the signs that usually indicated his brother's presence in a room. "Books or dice? No gold or gems or...?"

"Nothing." Hogun thought for a moment. "But perhaps I do not know what to look for? Sadly, I do not know what makes a stick a wand."

"Nor I," admitted Thor ruefully.

"We will be in Asgard soon," Volstagg called out. "In time to eat, unless I miss my guess."

Sif laughed. Fandrall grinned, "Is it ever ___not _time to eat, Volstagg?"

Sif, for one, was glad to be back on land and wove her wobbly way to her quarters—the sea and boats did odd things to her knees. The Warriors Three bade Thor good day and retired as well. Thor aimlessly wandered to his own quarters. He prayed that Loki would show up quickly and resolved to speak again to Heimdall.

Loki finished examining the trade documents—it had taken some time to unravel the contracts (damn the lawyers) and to collect the previous accountings. Regrettably everything was already signed and sealed. Several of the prices were high―inflated-and the delivery terms were not up to his usual strict standard. Still, it was pleasant to have quiet time to reflect in this study with Odin without hearing praises for his brother with every breath.

"What did you think, Loki?" Odin asked. "For Thor to get such terms?"

Loki only nodded and grunted, rolling the papers up.

"Now don't be rude," Odin chided absently, taking the scrolls. "A king must-"

"Must remain far above such crude behavior so that his subjects can reflect on his example," Loki finished for him. "But tell me, Allfather―I am not going to be king, am I?"

Odin stopped and carefully watched his younger son. "You both were born to be kings―I have told you this from the beginnings."

Loki looked at his elder thoughtfully. "But there is only one throne."

There was a moment of silence that went only a hair too long. Odin replied carefully, "There is only one throne of Asgard, true."

"Are you suggesting we ___acquire _some other realm's throne? Perhaps by ___conquering_?" Loki asked pointedly.

Odin sighed. "There will always be a place for you here, Loki," he said softly. "You will always be my son."

Loki was about to point out the obvious―that Thor was the favorite―when a knock sounded at the study door. The guards waited only a moment and then opened the door wide to show Thor standing in the hallway.

Thor's eye widened. "Brother," Thor smiled, somewhat stiffly. "I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you." Glancing at the scrolls Odin still held, he forced a wider smile. "Nor can I tell you how much I missed you at the negotiating table."

Loki forced a smile as well. "Undoubtedly as much as I would miss you on the field of glory."

"Father," Thor greeted warmly. "You suggested that we should take time together." He clapped his hand on Loki's back. "I think it would be a capital idea." He smiled at his brother. "We will hunt my brother―or fish if you like and stay in the woods like when we were children."

"With your entourage? Seems to me that you are never alone these days," Loki replied more sharply than perhaps was polite.

"No," Thor smiled, warming to his idea. "We will again be in the woods as when we were children." He held up a finger. "But, this time without sneaking out of the palace."

Loki smirked. "I can't wait."

"Nor I," Thor sighed in relief. Suddenly, his chest felt easier and his mind felt clearer. "It will be good to be with my brother again." Thor smiled at his brother, willing him to please explain where he had been. Explain the woman on the island.

Loki only nodded. "Shall we gather at the gates at dusk?"

"It will be too late to hunt then," Thor remarked with a smile. "But we can make do."

"Then I shall see you at dusk," Loki nodded. He bowed shallowly to his father and then turned and left quickly.

Odin smiled softly at his eldest son. "You are worried for him." He said this certainly.

Thor watched the empty hall longingly. "I worry, Father," he admitted at last. "I worry that we will never be as close as when were were children." ___And I miss my brother, my boyhood friend, _he added to himself.

"Times change," Odin replied, shuffling papers and organizing the study. "But it is not too late to try and repair what has been done." He put away the scrolls thoughtfully in a cubby on his desk. "Thor―though he will not speak of it, I believe that Loki worries, too."

"Loki worries?" Thor was torn between relief and curiosity and turned towards the Allfather. "For what?"

Odin smiled at Thor's concern. "He worries that he will find no place here for himself in the future. Like all young people, he looks ahead and wonders what will become of him."

"Should I become king," Thor finished wistfully. He looked squarely at his father. "Loki will always have a welcome place here. _Always._"

Odin smiled. "Perhaps he needs to hear it from you..."

Thor nodded uncertainly. Quietly he offered, "Perhaps he can be my general? His strategy and tactics are unparalled."

Odin noticed how quickly Thor had gone from "should I become king" to "when I am king". Perhaps the younger man did not even realize it himself, this shift in thinking and perspective. "Thor," Odin replied carefully. "Loki is _not _your shadow, no matter your younger days. He has his own strengths and faults." He paused. "A king must put each subject in the best place possible."

Thor nodded uncertainly. "I will think upon this carefully."

Dusk settled over Asgard and Loki warily approached the gates. He had settled in his usual green shirt and brown leather breeches, along with a leather great coat. A fastened pouch similar in design to the pouches messengers used was slung across his should and chest to the opposite hip. Though it was not obvious in his high boots, two daggers were hidden in their sheaths―just in case.

The great gate stood over 45 feet tall with three stories of platforms for guards. There were arrow slits for those on the middle platform and the battlements were deep, allowing the uppermost cover. The great gates were enchanted metal wrought to look like golden timbers. At each level, torches were lit, lighting the arch. Two additional guards stood in the arch at the bottom, talking to Thor as he stroked one of the two immense war horses beside him.

"No retinue?" Loki asked lightly as he drifted down the road from the lengthening shadows to the lit arch. "No throng of adoring public?"

"Not tonight," Thor nodded. With a small smile, he said, "Tonight! Tonight we are brothers only and done with title and -"

"Pomp and circumstance?" Loki suggested wryly. "Well, then,_brother_, let us depart."

The ride on the massive steeds was not long before they reached their boyhood campground. It was a quiet gnoll of grass surrounded by ancient pine trees. A bare patch of ground was on top, surrounded by a motley collection of rocks and stones. A tremendous waterfall was not too far away, flowing into a wide lake and thence to a river. Two tents were already assembled and a covered pot rested beside a covered basket and wine skin on the ground.

Thor smiled happily. "It has been too long, Loki." He vaulted off the horse and led it to a small grazing area near the lake.

"Too long," Loki echoed, carefully dismounting and leading his own mount. The horses were loyal and would stay close by. As many times as they had crept out to camp here, the horses most likely could travel home in the dark were they to wander off.

"I had some things brought out to spare us the trouble." Thor gestured to the campsite. "It will be like when we were young again."

"Except Father and Mother are at the palace," Loki pointed out with a snicker.

Thor snorted. "We snuck out often enough, didn't we?"

Loki did smile at that, and dropped his pack at the entrance to one of the tents. Thor had often begged his help back then to dodge his minders and to escape here. They would come out here and watch star as they spoke of grand tales, great deeds and fine oaths. In the summer, they would swim nearby. In the fall they would filch apples from the orchard and roast them over the campfire.

"Do you remember the first time we brought a wineskin here?" Thor asked casually as he began gathering branches for firewood.

Loki began gathering branches as well. "I do indeed," he replied, his playfulness gradually restored by this place. "I remember being tremendously ill the next morning, too."

"As was I!" Thor laughed, tugging a branch out from under some growth. "I could scarcely stay ahorse."

"At least you could get on the beast!" Loki teased. "I could not even do that." He smiled at the memory. "It was almost dusk the next day before we managed to make it back to the palace."

"It was the next morning before I could raise my head," Thor admitted ruefully. "And then the lectures and punishments started." He glanced at his brother, liking this easy comradary. "Father thought we wouldn't have remembered them had he lectured us when we first came back."

Loki smirked and drug his collection of branches towards the circle. Odin had carefully instructed them on laying wood for a fire, making a spit and living in a camp. Nowadays, it seemed that neither of them used such simple ways. Thor seemed to always have someone handy who was willing to take care of it for him and he preferred to conjure what he desired.

So it was surprising to see Thor pull out the worn flint and steel Odin had given them both that long ago summer. Breaking twigs and lichen off the branches, he stacked them over some dried moss. The tinder caught quickly and they took turned blowing the coals until they caught and gradually built the fire until there was merry light in the evening clearing.

The covered pot turned out to be full of hearty stew―still warm from the kitchen and tasting of red meat, wine, peppercorns and spices and filled with potatoes, carrots and onions. The basket held small loaves of bread, hard cheese, sausage, a pot of mustard and two small tarts for dessert along with an assortment of silverware.

Thor dug the soft centers out of the bread and filled the bread bowls with stew. He handed one to Loki and settled by the fire. They passed the skin of honey mead between them and ate their dinner.

The smooth, sweet honey mead mellowed Loki's mood somewhat. He could not deny it was pleasant to be out here again―to be a brother rather than a Prince of Asgard. "___Or rather, the __Spare ____Prince of Asgard―the Shadow Prince," _he reflected.

They were each refilling their trencher bowls when Thor said at last, "You have been missed, Loki."

"The merchant guild?" Loki asked, ripping a part of his gravy soaked bowl and popping it into his mouth.

Thor nodded, wiping his mouth against his sleeve. "I do not see how you can stand it, brother. Hours of arguing and balancing only to have the merchants tally every breath for a profit." He laughed shortly, ripping his own bowl. "I actually ___wanted _to have the Frost Giants attack to simply get out of the room. But don't tell Father that." He laughed again, his spirits high, and drank deeply again from the skin. "I wanted to crack their heads together to make them stop haggling." His own head rolled loosely and he rolled his shoulders. "I don't know how you do it without going mad."

Loki slid a glance over to him, momentarily mesmerized by the dancing firelight. "Do not tell _that _to Father," he said at last. "He'll make you do it every time then." Finally he chuckled. "I should know..."

"Yes, I remember," Thor replied. His voice boomed in the quiet of the night woods. "After you had snuck pastries when we were supposed to be abed." Thor laughed again. "He-"

"Thought it would teach me the value of what I took," Loki finished ruefully, quoting the Allfather.

Thor chuckled again, reaching for a piece of the cheese and his tart. "Instead you taught him!" Loki looked at him in surprise. Thor's eyes gleamed in the firelight. "He told me afterwards that he was amazed at your negotiations."

Loki was stunned. "He said _nothing _of this..."

"He did not want to reward your punishment," Thor explained, his voice slurring slightly. "But Father was glad to see your care and high standards. He said that the prices had never been so low."

Loki laughed heartily. It had been easy enough to persuade the merchants to lower their prices once he had discovered a few secrets about them―mainly through listening silently at their doors. The head of the guild was a cheater at wagering and almost penniless. The invoices he had left around his guest room―which Loki had "innocently acquired"-showed his true costs to be lower than he had stated. Loki allowed a profit, but not usury.

Thor smiled widely, leaning against his pack and finally relaxing. For a time, they lounged back, staring at the stars and making bawdy jokes. For a time, it was the golden days of youth when they had no limits on their time or energy or imagination. His mind finally focused on his questions and Thor asked in what he hoped was an innocent tone, "Do you have a woman in your heart?"

Loki's head felt fuzzy and he only shrugged. "I'd rather not say," he chuckled. That his answer was deliberately vague and misleading in a hundred ways seemed suddenly amusing to him and he giggled, lifting up long enough to sip from the skin again before laying back down to stare at the sky.

"Oh?" Thor teased. "Is she married?" Loki shuddered and shot Thor a sour look. "I but jest." Thor laughed again and stared at the sky. "I hope that you have a fine woman."

Loki stared into the heavens, wondering at their glittering beauty. "What about you, Thor?" He did not glance sideways, but heard Thor reaching for the skin again. Loki grinned. "Of course, there is always a crowd of women around you. So who is the lucky damsel?" Loki sighed deeply. "The queen to be?"

Thor looked at Loki seriously. "There will not be one." Loki gaped at him in shock and Thor―flat on his back on the ground―raised his hand and looked at Loki. "No―do not test this brother." His hand wobbled and flopped down. "There will not be a lady wife for me. I am happiest on the battlefield and that is no place for a lady. " Thor kicked a rock restlessly, and a cloud of dust rose golden at his feet. "To always be worried about me―to not have me home―or worse yet, my own misery if I am lashed to home and hearth. Remember how Mother suffered when Father went to battle? How she would not eat or sing or sleep until he returned?

"You know me best, Loki. I get hives from being in the throne room and not on the battle field. Mother and Father fret enough over me. I do not want another doing the same." He shrugged, sliding a sideways glance at Loki's lounging form.

Loki nodded only, mellow in mood and temper. "I see," he burped.

Thor smiled wickedly. "So I have a brilliant plan," he said looking up at the heavens and folding his arms behind his head and resting his head on them.

"Oh?" Loki smiled, amused to hear this plan. Thor was not known as a particularly clever or cunning individual.

"I shall name you and your lady's first child my heir," Thor explained in a slurring tone. Glancing at Loki, he laughed at Loki's shocked face. "I do not have someone nagging me to be home, your family is provided for and Mother and Father have grandchildren to dote on. Is that not brilliant?"

"Astounding," Loki said in amazement. Of all the knuckle headed, clod pated, drunken muck that he expected, he was literally astounded at this. For a moment, he supposed it was a good thing to already be laying on the ground.

"_And_," Thor pointed out with satisfaction. "I get the freedom to do what I do best. Not to mention the perks."

Loki grinned. "Being a hero and all..."

Thor laughed. "There is that. The court's ladies are _thankful _in so many ways." He sat up in a wobbly fashion and tossed a branch on the fire before laying down again. "Besides, then I do not have to be troubled as to whether the maids are more interested in me or the crown."

"Father doesn't know about this plan-"

"_Brilliant plan,_" Thor clarified.

"Does he?" Loki finished.

Thor frowned. "No. He hopes for me to settle. But even Sif tires of battle and she is the most understanding female I know." Thor's eyes closed for a moment as if weary. "And besides, Father may choose you and your lady."

Loki smirked at Thor's belch. "So―just so that I know―who is this lady you have me with?" He chuckled merrily. "In case I should meet her."

Thor burped again. "Why don't you find her and tell me?" Rolling to his side, Thor staggered to his knees. "Arrgh! It is late and my head..." He tossed the now empty skin aside. "I will see you in the morn, Loki."

Loki nodded, staring up again at the heavens. "In the morning light, brother." The stars seemed to wink at him, almost like diamonds on velvet. Perhaps his little dove had once stared up at these stars in wonder. The thought warmed him and he considered, as he heard the thud of Thor dropping to his pallet and the soft snores start, a dress of dark blue velvet and embroidered with silver like the moon and set with diamonds like the stars. His little dove with her lovely dusky skin, clothed richly and smiling at him as he came in to the room.

Loki was unaware as his own snores started.

The morning dawned in the normal, glorious fashion and was well on its way before Thor staggered upright in the tent. While he was not bolting to empty his stomach in the woods, he did not feel well. For a moment, he could not figure out how he got there. Then he remembered―the camping in the woods with Loki and the wine skin, the stew and the words by starlight.

Loki was decidedly feeling odd himself. He should not have had so much mead―it was a terrible weakness to be undone by the smooth, golden brew. He had been dreaming of his little dove and her soft kisses on his jaw when he had bolted awake at the sight of the steed nuzzling him softly. He had crawled, stiffly and sore, into his tent to sleep the few hours left of the night. If he dreamed of his little dove, so soft and quiet in the watches of the night after they had joined again and again, then it was no one's affair but his own.

Four days later, Loki was again headed westward and cloaked in sorcery. He considered his brother's words. He loved Thor―he truly did―but Thor was happiest on the battlefield. Preferably with lots of things to aim at and several things on fire.

The beach was quiet as Loki landed. Out of habit, he secured the craft to the black rock. A slightly sick feeling in his gut gave him pause. Somehow he had a feeling, despite the beautiful, sunny day that shone warmly down on him, that something was dreadfully wrong. The cold fingers of dread were creeping up his spine―his wizardly intuition telling him this much but no more. He checked his pouch for the thread and the few baubles he had collected and began to cautiously weave up to the cave.

Contrary to belief, sorcery is not invisible. Generally, when something moves while cloaked in invisibility charms, other things move. Grass bends under invisible feet, water flows around invisible rocks and, despite one's hardest efforts, light bends ever so slightly and refracts around the movement. Thus, it is an advantage to keep one's spells still. They may phase in and out of this existence or be bound to only spring out when a target approaches, but stillness alone completes the illusion of invisibility. And a sorcerer's own spells are never invisible to him.

So, it was very annoying to find that the usual teleports and cantrips he had scattered on the myriad twisting paths had been disturbed. Loki fumed as he reset them―neither he nor she nor any dumb animal wold be able to set off the traps. While he had considered it a safety issue to have the teleport traps simply spin to other parts of the caverns and in the maze of paths, he reset them now to deposit the offensive trespasser high up over the cliffs on the other side of the island―not so close that an errant branch could catch him and and just high enough that the loathsome beggar would realize how very big and final a mistake it was to poach on these grounds.

Loki finally made his way up to the summit, still aware of the premonition that sat like a lead ball in his belly and angrily fuming. Yet his anger and fury melted when he saw the scratches and scars on the rocky walls and traced with his own fingers the scorched marks on the ground. It had been a relatively smooth path, but now cracks and pock marks marred the surface as though a great battle had been waged by throwing massive boulders around and then setting them on fire.

The little door still stood, closed as always. He crept down to the meadow and saw the requisite number of chickens, the rooster and 3 goats. The little garden was somewhat parched, but was approaching the time to harvest the first fruits. The little cave for the animals was clean, but not recently tended, as was the roost for the chickens. Loki considered reaching to see if the eggs had been collected―a sure sign his dove was up and about―but the scrawny red chicken glared at him so furiously and almost...accusingly he withdrew.

Staring at the scratches in the path, he climbed again to the cave. Steeling himself for the worst, he knocked on the door softly, calling out, "Little dove? Has my little dove flown from me?"

With a shriek of female relief, she plowed into him. Had he been of a slighter frame, she would have slammed them both into the rocky walls of the path. As it was, she shivered so violently and her teeth chattered so that she seemed intent on shaking them apart.

He smiled at her fervor, at last feeling amused now that he knew she was safe. Feeling benign and generous and benevolent, he wrapped his arms around her and gently kissed the top of her head. Though she was tall for a woman, in her sandals the top of her head reached his jaw. "I see that I was missed?" he purred in her ear.

Suddenly, she burst into hysterical tears. He frowned, unused to this reaction and equally unused to offering comfort. "What has happened?" he demanded.

She automatically turned her face from him, laying her head on his chest. Blessed gods, he felt strong and sure and it was so good to be in his arms. But it was bad enough to be so overwrought as to sob on his shoulder the moment he reappeared, but to have her sightless face all puffy and red, her nose red and her cheeks puffy was beyond insult. "I...I am sorry," she gritted out, one hand fisting to grip his shirt tightly and the other continually running up and down his arm and chest to reassure herself that this was no dream. "You have been missed―hic—my heart. So much more than you know." Yet, his arms seemed to have tightened, tension running through them. His chest too felt tight and forbidden, like every muscle was fighting to not do something. "Please hold me, my love."

"Tell me what happened," he gritted out between his teeth. Whoever had upset the delicate balance of his preserve―whoever it was―would pay dearly. "Tell me who was here."

If it was possible, she shook even harder. "Thor," she whispered into his chest.

"WHAT?! Thor?!" he exploded, shoving her back. Rage flowed through him―Thor was always tempted most by the women he fancied. And they generally returned his favor, discarding him for his older brother. Then he grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him. "Did you do this? Did you tempt him here?"

"No! No! No!" she shrieked in alarm. "There were others―one named Fandral and a lady-"

"Sif," he bit out, releasing her suddenly.

She fell against the door post, her knees giving out. "I did not know that they had come," she whispered. "The one called Fandral approached me and then Thor came up behind. I heard his voice." She began to shake again and shook her head to free herself from her fear. "I would know it even now. I told Fandrall to leave―I slammed the door on his fingers." Her voice turned cold and acidic―like the great bergs on Jotunheim. "I'm glad that I did." She still shook, but her voice was steadier now. "I wanted to break his fingers―to make him leave. Then-" Here she broke down again, reliving it in her mind.

"Then what?" he snapped. Loki rubbed his chin thoughtfully, trying to fathom what had happened. One arm wrapped around his chest tightly to prevent him from flying into pieces.

"Then Thor spoke," she hissed back. "And I felt the...the ___fire _rise. I hid it inside, but I felt the heat and lightning and heard him scream."

She bit back a sob, her hand rising to her lips. "The next time it was the woman. She frightened me―she sounded so angry. Then Thor came to her rescue. I thought...I thought that he would hurt me again. I could only imagine being chained and beaten―and the chains appeared. I could hear them clanking and snapping." Her voice turned soft. "I believe that after that they got bored and left. Or maybe they couldn't find-"

"Couldn't find what?" Loki snapped, seething.

"They said they were looking for a friend and a brother," she whispered. "Yet you are no one's brother. You have said so."

Loki felt his cheeks heat peculiarly, caught in his falsehood. His anger subsided. "Is that all?"

She nodded, then she hobbled inside as though she aged 100 years in as many heartbeats. The door slid open and slammed shut in his face. For a moment, he stood there with his fists clenched. "___How dare she?" __h_e wondered. "___How dare Thor? How dare Thor lead his little club of friends to invade his sanctuary?"_

Loki felt magic gathering―like static shocks prickling his skin. He dove out of the way as the magical bolts scattered around. Gasping as the ionized air burned his lungs, he rolled and watched the fireworks writhe in the air like burning snakes. There was no hope that Heimdall would not have seen the blast. Even Thor might have seen it had the golden child of Asgard cared to gaze out the window.

Loki panted as the magic finally settled. This was one occasion that he would have given much to have been built like his brother, who seemed to find this brand of daring do diverting. Getting up and dusting off, he went to the door.

"If you keep that up," Loki said reasonably. "We shall have to fetch a new door and do you know how hard that was to get here?" After waiting a moment and feeling reasonably reassured that he was not going to be fried with lightning, he pushed open the door. For a moment, all he could hear was her sobbing in the absolute darkness of the cave.

He sighed heavily, feeling his own anger flow out. Sighing heavily and conjuring a ball of light, he crept to the back, where she sobbed into a worn pillow on her mat. He knelt beside her and gingerly reached out to stroke her back.

She shuddered under his touch, almost flinching under his hand. He sighed again, softly and sadly. "My poor little dove. We have...so much we have to think about, don't we?" He took a deep breath and pushed her hair back from her face. "So much hurt and pain..." With reluctance, she quieted. At least, she didn't pull away. He tried again. "So you broke his finger, eh?" he tried to laugh. Thor would undoubtedly be wroth with this little one if his friend was truly hurt.

"I don't know," she whispered softly. "I hope I did." She pulled herself up to kneel beside him. "Who was he?"

"Fandral," Loki said grimly. "One of Thor's inner circle―called the Warriors Three."

"Locca," she said suddenly. "Let us pretend."

"Pretend what?" he drawled.

She hiccuped. "Anything―just that this never happened. Anything you like," she sighed sadly.

Loki's ears pricked at the wistful sound of her voice. "That...sounded like you had something already in mind." He smiled and folded his hands in front of his mouth expectantly.

She half shrugged. "What I had in mind would not work." She shrugged again. "It doesn't matter anyway. It was not...intriguing."

Slowly, as though halfheartedly (and Loki supposed that it was), the cave morphed into his little sanctuary. Small things were different―the lights were a soft grey like sad rain clouds instead of radiant green, the walls sparkled with with dark metallic veins like hematite, and the table was more angular in carvings rather than flowing curves. He noted that she remembered the lights―but kept his own conjured ball of light just in case. The bed this time was raised on a dais of seeming marble and had tall columns that cried out for sheer curtains or a rich canopy.

"Little dove," he said simply. It was soothing to see the small changes in the cave and again he felt benign and benevolent. "What would you like?"

She let out a watery hiccup, her hands wringing suddenly. "I had lots of ideas, but there is only one that is worth repeating." She held very still―even her breath was still in her throat. "Also I should like some special herbs."

Loki leaned gingerly against a column of the bed. It held firm, despite her faltering. "You presenting me with an absolute delight," he chuckled dryly, feeling again amused. "Do I ask about these special herbs you want so much or the pretend that you have so far refused to tell me?"

She shrugged. "I suppose neither is particularly interesting as your trading and travels." When he did not reply, she continued. "I would like―if there is any to be found―blue and black cohosh."

Loki let out a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding. Black cohosh and blue cohosh he had heard of―though he couldn't remember offhand where or why―but they had no magical properties that he knew of. "And what would these be for?" he asked silkily.

She flushed darkly and then for a moment went pale. "It is a woman thing," she hedged.

Loki smiled thinly. Silently, he arranged her on the bed beside him. Stroking her body, he noted the swells of her curves and the soft radiance of her skin. He found no hurt or bruise or pain. "A womanly problem?" he queried lightly. He thought for a moment. "Your moon link has become painful when it breaks?" He remembered, vaguely his mother had a maid who suffered each month. It had been years ago and he didn't remember what had been done―hadn't paid attention to it, really―but Frigga had been mightily embarrassed when he had eventually asked her and said that he'd understand when he wed.

She shrugged again, lounging against the bed. Loki frowned angrily―it wasn't like his dove to be less than completely open with him―but this had been a strange time. Perhaps the pretend would take her mind off of it or give him a glimpse of what nettled her so. "So if you won't say more about the herbs, then tell me of this pretend..."

She let out a ghost of a smile. "I know already you won't take me to Asgard-" She held up her hand, stilling the knee-jerk protest that rose to his contrary lips. "And I truly don't want to go with Thor there. But would like to pretend...that you take me to plead for sanctuary."

Loki felt his mood fade into suspicions. "Am I supposed to be taking you unaware of what you desire?" He brought her palm up to his lips―which earned him a smile and a soft chuckle. "Who are you seeking?"

She giggled again, feeling bolder at his good mood. "Aye―you have been most generous. But," she added soberly. "There is only one who I could hope would help me."

"Who is that?" he asked, his eyes gleaming green.

"Prince Loki."

Loki narrowly stopped himself from sputtering. As it was, he almost choked on his own silver tongue. "I don't know...that I like this pretend." He looked at her face, saw the pride and fear at war within. Vainly, he tried to recover control of her pretend. "What would you ask...the Prince...if he did agree to see you?"

She smiled a bit stiffly. "Would you lead me in?" She wriggled a little closer.

Loki almost choked. "He won't see anyone without a good reason. Certainly not-"

"A blinded beggar?" she asked hotly.

"A ___commoner_," Loki corrected, perversely amused at her sudden pride and rancor.

"I've come to offer him a deal," she said steadily.

"A deal of what kind?" Loki's voice remained steady and silky, but his hand tightened around hers. "What kind of deal?" he whispered against her palm.

"I'll say when I see him and not before," she said shortly but with a smile. Loki stiffened―then belatedly looked at her. Clever minx―she got her pretend anyway. Then he stopped―he was jealous of her interest in...___himself? _This deal was between his woman and..._himself _and he was..._jealous _of..._?_

Loki's shoulders shook with dark laughter. "Very well, minx." His hand ran lightly over her curves. "Let us say you have your audience..."

A worried frown crept over her face. "Will you be there, Locca?" she asked suddenly. "I will be lost without you..."

Loki laughed again. The thought of him trying to be both Locca and himself at the same time during the audience was darkly amusing. Even his powers would not allow it. "No, sweeting. I cannot. One of the Star Guard will lead you in."

She nodded slowly. "He is very big, isn't he?"

"Huge," Loki confirmed with relish. "Covered in golden armor. Smells vaguely of mead and he's sweaty too. You can hear his green cape flow around your ankles as he clanks beside you down the hall." She giggled at his description. "There's my darling's smile," Loki said with approval. "He leads you to an immense chamber with marble floors and...echoes. The guard announces you, bows stiffly and then leaves."

Loki lowered his voice. "So, what would you like? You have a deal?" It felt wicked―playing himself―but in a peculiar way, it was a relief too. The fact that he felt rewarded when at last she snuggled against him and crawled in his lap with her arms around him was a bonus. However, it was a bit of a challenge for his wit keeping all the roles straight. He cleared his throat in an official sounding way. "Speak up-" he ordered with authority. "I don't have time to dawdle."

Her head bobbed slightly. "Your Highness," she greeted. She felt Locca's lips against her throat and squealed, "Locca―not in front of the prince."

"He can wait," Loki grinned as she squirmed hotly.

"Well, one of us can," she smiled. Then she cleared her throat. "Highness, I seek sanctuary that only you can offer."

Loki grinned and settled for kissing her neck. "And what sanctuary do you think to ask for?"

She sobered―Loki felt it in her entire body. "Your Highness, please―there is no one else that I can ask. I seek sanctuary from Thor."

Loki blinked and tried to recover. He had expected a thousand different things―her eyesight or healing her scars or something, but not that. "And...why would I do that?"

"I...I seek only to never cross paths with him again," she stammered as she felt Locca's warm hand stroke her back.

"Why?" he prodded, attempting to sound like he remain unmoved. He ___knew _why. But in the audience chamber with the glittering golden guards who wagered on the outcomes for each audience, he could not have given the slightest quarter. And wouldn't this give them something to gossip about for weeks?

"I...It is..."

"What is it, girl? Spit it out or begone," he prodded.

"Thor injured me and killed my father. I only wish to be allowed to live on my island―without his or his...argh!" she snapped at herself. "The inner circle of his-?"

"The Warriors Three," Loki supplied dryly.

"Yes―that's it. I do not need to ever see them and there is no reason that they need to see me. I only ask to be left alone!" she bristled.

Loki felt the laughter bubble in him again. "Even if your claims are true, why have you not sought out justice in the courts? And why would you expect that I would go against my own kin?"

"If my claims are true?" she echoed in a question.

"It can hardly be proven," he pointed out. "And one does not challenge the champion of Asgard lightly. So why would I bother?"

"I suppose that truth and justice and gratitude are not enough?" she muttered bitterly.

"Truth is a noble concept, but hardly fills one's belly or one's coffers," he replied evenly. The scene was building in his mind and for a moment, his eyes drifted closed to see it in his head. "Justice is overrated and gratitude-" he lowered his voice and she shivered slightly. "-I find is promised in haste and recanted at leisure." Loki let one finger trail down her back as his mind contemplated with delight the position she was in. Would she attempt to seduce him or remain true to..._him?_

But instead of melting into him, she stiffened. "Your Highness," she choked out with almost real outrage. "I...do not believe I understand what you wish of me?"

Loki laughed. The Star Guards would be agape at this audience. It would be delicious chaos as they tried to puzzle out what was going on. "Ah, I think that you understand well," he purred. He let his hand drift over her again. He leaned close to her ear―almost close enough to nip it―and whispered, "I can..." He inhaled deeply. "___smell_it."

She bowed her head. "I cannot...be with you, Highness," she murmured softly. "My heart lies elsewhere."

Loki choked for a moment, caught between all of the roles he played. Then he smiled again, "Ahh...have you never heard, pet, that it is easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar?" He leaned closer and did nuzzle her. "And you smell...very sweet."

"So it is said," she mocked dryly but with a smile. Locca was trying very hard to seduce her witless―again. "But who truly wants flies?" She sighed softly and let out words soft as thistledown. "I'll not betray my love." Her words, however softly spoken, were firm. "But I will give you my own power in exchange for sanctuary." At his stunned silence, she continued. "There is an island far from here. I live there alone. All I ask is for the privilege to continue living alone there."

Loki nuzzled her again. "All alone?" She nodded, her rosy lips parted ever so slightly. "And this true love? Will he be allowed in your solitary paradise?"

"Yes, please," she whispered.

"And you offer your own powers-" He caught himself in the nick of time. He was playing himself in a fanciful pretend. "Whatever they are, will be mine in return?"

"As you say," she replied, sliding into the warm, masculine arms at last. "So long as I am unmolested and undisturbed by Prince Thor?"

"Why," Loki countered reasonably as the debate heated his blood. He loved a good debate. "Why do you seek my favor rather than bring him to task in the courts?"

She smiled bitterly. "Would the Allfather truly punish his favored older son? Would that give me my sight or a trade to make a living?" She felt her throat clog, lost between the pretend and the pain she had held in her heart. "Would Odin's anger allow me to live in peace on my island? Would any of this turn back the clock that my father may live?" She shook slightly. "No, Highness―you are my last hope. It is my prayer that something can be done." She stopped speaking suddenly and choked back her sob.

Loki cleared his throat uneasily. "The Star Guard will lead you out. If I decide to grant your request, we will meet at moonrise tomorrow night and you will never again bring these charges to Asgard. If not, you will be allowed about your business and safe travels to your home." He rubbed against her lasciviously. "Unless you care to add...some other service or favor?"

She shook her head, which stroked his male ego for all of a minute before he realized that she was saying no to him to be faithful...to him. This double identity business was perplexing stuff, he decided.

"So what happens?" she asked in a watery voice.

"Ahh," Loki grinned, feeling the imminent conclusion. "The same Star Guard―his name is...Bjorn and he is a big smelly brute―brings you back into the waiting chamber where I meet you. And I hold you," he sighed as she happily (finally) melted in his arms. "And I lead you to the inn where I have rooms. There is a hot bath and warmed wine and a platter of meats waiting for us."

"Of course I'd tell you what happened," she added lightly. "I tell you that I'll never betray you, no matter if I get his help or not."

"And when the Star Guard comes for you in the evening?"

She giggled. "The big, smelly brute? It is a good omen! I kiss you." She dropped a chaste peck on his cheek. "When I return, I'll be free to live here and there would never be the threat of my magic." She grimaced. "But I'd have to get a real bed."

He growled and slowly pushed her into the bed. "It would be forever." He slid a kiss on her cheek and down her throat. "We might need more than a bed."

"Well," she giggled. "Maybe a few other things." She slid the green shirt off. Stroking his muscled chest, she smiled. "But that would be...afterwards." He flinched a bit as she ran her short nails over his skin. Then she slid flattened palms over him boldly, relishing the hitch in his breath.

Then his hands were all over her and, for a long time, she thought no more. Many minutes later―perhaps 30 or 60 for who knew how long it took to drift down from the shimmering heaven Locca showed her?-she felt him shift in the bed restlessly. "Awake?" she murmured sleepily.

Loki felt the restlessness and could not settle it. The little game of pretend had pricked his hardened heart. His little dove was so full of surprises. He had never considered that hearing her address him by his title would have been so uncomfortable. Was he happy she had been true to him by refusing him? And her peculiar request―if he were to stop seeing her, would Thor leave her in the peace she craved? But if he stopped seeing her―could she go on living? For that matter, could he?

On the heels of that came another thought that prickled him like needles. What were the herbs she had asked for? Usually she only asked for his return. Why were they important and why did he have an instinctual, gut reaction to refuse her request?

"Awake still, darling?" she whispered, blindly reaching for him

Loki started, so deep in his brooding he had not heard her. "I'm sorry, little dove," he crooned. "I...must leave soon."

She stuck her lip out in an adorable pout. "It's the warmer weather, isn't it?" She stretched languidly and let the sheet fall off of her body. "Trading before the winter comes and freezes the ports and all that?"

"Something like that," he hedged, feeling the need to separate from her. He desperately, suddenly needed to clear his head as one choked by perfume might leave the room and seek a breath of open air. "I will return before a sennight has passed." He scooped up his clothing and began putting it on. Fishing through his pockets and his bag, he pulled out the thread. "There is the thread I promised." She stared stupidly at it in her hand as he tugged on his boots. "I will leave the rest on the beach before I leave."

Frowning, she fingered the silky thread. "As you wish, darling," she whispered. "You aren't going to do anything...risky are you?" She paled. "You aren't going to..."

"To what?!" he snapped, sliding on his great coat.

She shrugged. "You are wise." A brittle laugh echoed in the cave. "For a moment I had thought you were going to...I don't know―approach Thor or..." She pressed her hand to her mouth. "Oh, gods! You won't approach Loki, will you?"

"Silly girl!" he said sharply. "Of course I can't do that!"

"Of course," she said sadly, pulling on her dress. "I need to be there to offer my powers for there to be a bargain."

He turned and left, stalking down the path to the beach. There he slung the three bags he had brought with him to the sand. Without much other thought, he took off. He leaned heavily against the rudder, refusing to see the sad little shape he left behind.

It was evening when he arrived in the palace. Maids scampered out of his way and guards trembled as he stalked past. He went straight to his chambers and slammed the door.

Two hours later, he was engrossed in not reading a book he had chosen to take his mind off his little dove's soft kisses when a light tap sounded at the door.

"Enter," he barked, folding the book closed and staring into the fireplace. He had not bothered to light anything else.

"My son?" Frigga stood in the hallway with a platter in her hands with her glittering gold dress fanning around her. "You have been gone all day and then stormed through here only to shut up in your room like a wounded turtle in its shell." She raised the tray up slightly. "I thought that perhaps dinner would soothe you."

He rose fluidly and welcomed her inside. Wish a flick of the wrist, he lit the candles that lurked in stands and lanterns around the room. Everywhere was the beauty of Asgard. A tiny tree with a curiously twisting trunk stood in a lapis blue ceramic pot against the enormous diamond paned window. The smooth golden oak floor was covered with rugs in brown and green and gold. The furniture was graceful and slightly curved carved wood with green velvet cushions. There was even a fainting couch against one wall surrounded by tall bookshelves.

Frigga entered gladly. "And not a civil word of greeting to anyone!" she chided, setting the platter down on a small oval table by the fireplace. Without hesitation, she perched on his seat. And without hesitation, he brought over another chair to join her at the platter. "So what has the prince of Asgard done to be in such a foul mood?"

"Nothing," he lied.

Frigga raised her brows in a way that only spoke to how much she didn't believe him. Then she picked up a delicately painted teacup and saucer from the tray. "I'll pour, shall I?" Loki nodded and poured the tea and served the plate she pressed on him. His stomach growled, raging between starvation and churning.

"Mother?" Loki asked.

"Son?" she asked, picking at a cake off the platter.

"What sort of malady would black or blue cohosh aid?" For a moment, he was afraid that her sudden start and staring was for ill. "Not for me-"

"Obviously not," she drawled and put down her forgotten cake. "But...what in Odin's name...?"

"A friend of mine has become quite upset," he improvised as he sipped the tea. "He swears that nothing would help but black and blue cohosh for his wife."

Frigga paled and set down her cup. "Your ___friend _has some explaining, then, Loki, and unless you were involved at the beginning it is not your place to be involved at the end." She stared at him peculiarly. "Any midwife would be able to provide the herbs, though."

"Midwife?" Loki queried feeling like the bottom of his stomach was at his feet. Midwife...baby? ___His__ baby?_

"Midwife," Frigga said, watching her son's thoughts churn with a curious tug at her heart. "The herbs are used to help balance a woman's cycles with the moon. Occasionally, they have been used to hasten the delivery of a child. And some souls unfortunately use it to...prevent a birth." Loki's eyes narrowed as he focused on her. "_But_, it is possible the wife is simply out of sorts and not having a cycle or something like that―in which case the cohosh would help it begin again. Or perhaps she has had too many children and feels that she must have a break."

Loki gritted his teeth. "Or she is a-"

"Son!" she said sharply. "If the...wife is with child, her mind could be going flighty." Loki looked at her again with curious eyes. "She may be scared―terrified. She may be overwrought or tired. She may feel that she cannot bear successfully..." Loki frowned mightily and Frigga smiled wearily in return. "Or she may be unable to nurture a child at this time..." Frigga thought for a moment. "If you would like, I would happily approach the woman to see what the case is. Surely it would not be hard to arrange for us to be in the same place at the same time?"

Loki sipped his tea again, staring into space and seeing nothing but a fat young child sleeping peacefully against his chest. "But...why? She has seemed so happy..."

"A mother-to-be needs no reason to fret and worry, nor to be terrified," Frigga explained with a gentle smile, even though he was not listening. "Especially if it is her first! Her whole world will change. If her mother is gone-"

"Her mother is gone," he said tonelessly. What about Thor...?

"Then she could be simply lacking a better way to handle the pregnancy." Frigga cocked her head slightly and looked at her son. "Loki―what have you gotten yourself into?"

Loki could not answer. He wanted to, desperately, to reiterate that it was his imaginary friend "Locca's" woman. But he couldn't―the thought of a child with copper hair and his emerald eyes was lodged into his skull with all the delicacy of a battle axe and he could not get it out again.

Frigga put the cup and saucer down on the tray with more gentleness than she felt. She longed to see her grandchildren. Odin deserved to know his grandchildren―to bounce the boys on his knees and lead them on Sleipnir through the markets and to be coddled by the granddaughters. She wanted to have a daughter to speak with on womanly things, to go search for dresses and furnishings with and to eat dainty sandwiches and drink tea. She wanted to sew dresses for little girls and to mend the knees of little boys pants one more time.

Yet Thor was ever on the battlefield and adored it far more than a crown prince should. He had not yet even dallied for long with a maid, let alone sired a child. And Loki had become steadily more moody and withdrawn, favoring books and his own solitary company. Neither of them had been interested in any of the courtly ladies―Thor favored...earthy women and Loki was withdrawn and almost neglected by their notice. At first it was a relief―she had taught them about preventing a child so that none would be called their bastard―but now it felt like they were simply too busy for families. She let out a deep breath as she stared into her cup intently. Could there be any hope―any prayer of...

"Mother," Loki said softly, causing her to jump. "I want you to see her." He dropped his own cup and saucer on the platter with a clatter. "I want you to see what is going on. She may not speak of it to me-"

"You're...a wonderful son, Loki," Frigga said carefully, wondering if he noted how his voice had changed from a 'friend' to himself. "But sometimes a woman prefers another woman..."

Loki frowned, as though he were carefully adding that thought into his understanding like a potion being mixed. He stood suddenly and grabbed his cloak, "We will leave now. Before anything else-" He swallowed hard. "But you must understand that there are...special circumstances."

Frigga stood regally. She was not without her own powers and between one blink and the next she had shed her glittering golden dress and wore a darker outfit. The cloth was rich, but of a shifting shade of shadowy grey, black and midnight blue. Skirt hikes looped on her leather belt pulled the floor length skirt up, allowing her to freely move and showing her fine leather boots. A swirling hooded cloak of dark grey with the thinnest line of silver at the edge drifted over her shoulder.

Loki shifted as well. Rather than his usual, ornate emerald and mahogany, he now wore grey and a dull shade of brown. With a flush tinging his cheeks, he conjured a ring to hand to her. Frigga smiled and looked at him curiously.

"I told you that there would be special conditions," he said simply, holding the ring out. "I'd just as soon not have Heimdall alarmed."

Frigga chuckled and pulled her hood up over her head. In an instant, she vanished from sight. "You were saying?" her ghostly voice asked.

Loki smiled and put the ring on himself. He looked at it as it settled in the familiar spot on his left ring finger. His mother still wore the ornate silver ring Odin had given her when they had joined. "Nothing, Mother," he replied softly.

"Anything else before we leave?"

Loki frowned in consternation. Not that she could see it, since he was invisible too. "She...believes things," Loki gritted out.

"Oh?" Just that single syllable of maternal concern and expectation.

"You will understand when you see her, but I have not told her my identity and I would prefer if you did not either."

Frigga nodded then smiled. He could no longer see her nod, nor her tears of joy as he took the lead. Just like Odin―he saw what needed to be done and quietly went to do it without expecting fanfare or craving approval. "I will be silent so long as it does not endanger you or I or Asgard."

"Meet me at the northern tip of the harbor."

It was impossible to tell which of them went which way. The stern faced Star Guards may have felt some slight breeze as one passed quietly by. The maids may have noticed a curtain gently sway or a forgotten open door that let in a breath of fresh air. But not even Heimdall―who happened to be smiling to himself―could have told where they went.

The little craft was plain by Asgard standards, though still beautiful. Loki boarded the little craft, abruptly shifting into a fisherman's form. There was no sign of Frigga and no telling when she would join him on this little jaunt. So, like many of the fishermen, he sat in his boat, watching the stars and waiting.

It was only a half hour later when a plainly dressed old woman in plain clothes approached the craft. She carried a small sack and had a pouch slung over her shoulder. "Excuse me, young man," she croaked. "Are you going out tonight?"

He looked at her. For a moment, it was in his mind to snap at her, but then he saw her eyes. There was no one with such kind and gentle eyes as Frigga. He smiled and glanced curiously at her load. "Wherever you wish dear lady." He stood and opened up the cubby under the seat. She daintily boarded and stowed her belongings. With a deft hand, Loki shoved off and out into the peaceful harbor. Almost that same instant, the craft disappeared from Heimdall's knowing view.

When they got to the island, Frigga looked at the deserted beach in concern. Perhaps she had been blinded by her own thoughts to consider how dangerous it was to be so far from home, alone with only her secret daggers placed in her boots. "Is this place safe?" she wondered aloud as she pulled out her packs.

"Safe as houses, Mother," he answered. "I chose it to be a sanctuary in times of turmoil."

She nodded uncertainly and allowed her assumed form to fade. Again she was his mother, in her plain, dark clothing. "I should like to understand how she does not know you? Is she Asgardian? Or elven? Or...?"

"She is...was Asgardian," Loki confirmed. "Her father was a colonel in the royal guards and..._died _at the last Jotun invasion three years ago." He tied the craft. "She knows me only as Locca―a trader and merchant with a penchant for remote places."

Frigga frowned and raised an eyebrow at that. "And who am I supposed to be?"

"My mother of course!" he smiled winningly at her.

Frigga rolled her eyes. "I see. And you thought it wise to not inform her of your true identity?"

Loki stopped. "I...was thinking about it while I tended her wounds and that story sort of spun up by itself."

Frigga took a deep breath of maternal aggravation. "I see."

"She will be told, if it is necessary," Loki reiterated as he led his mother up the crooked paths. "But trust me when I say she no more wants me to be Prince Loki, potential heir to the throne of Asgard than does-"

"Sif?" Frigga supplied with a chuckle.

"Well, there is that," Loki chuckled back. "Sif does bear me great enmity."

"Her hair, Loki," Frigga reminded him grimly. She still didn't believe his ardent denials that he had not been the one to cut Sif's golden curls. Of course, she couldn't say that it wasn't more pleasant to be around Sif now that she wasn't constantly primping vainly, either.

He turned to look at her in earnest. "Believe me, Mother. You will understand when you meet her," he swallowed heavily. He smiled wanly. "All will be well."

"Son," she whispered. "I do sometimes wonder if you know what you are about."

The rest of the climb was slow, accomplished in the shadowy light of the moon and the glow of an orb of light Loki conjured. Frigga glanced meaningfully at him when she saw the gashes in the pathway and saw the scorch marks along the rocks, but said nothing.

The little doorway was pure anticlimax after the climb and Frigga was amused when Loki stood for a moment to gather his wits, clear his throat and then knock timidly. There was no answer that she could hear, but he smiled and slid open the door.

"Locca?" a sleep ruffled voice called out from the back of the cave. "Is...is that you?"

"Darling," he whispered. "I returned as swiftly as I could." He gestured inside, ignoring Frigga's nose wrinkling at the dull and crude accommodation. He swallowed heavily to see the hastily dropped bags lounging in a corner of the front cave area. For some reason it pained him that she hadn't even looked inside.

A sleep befuddled form wrapped in a hooded cloak came forward into the little orb's light. "Is it really you? Have you forgiven me?"

He held out his arms to her. "My love―it is my miserable temper that you should forgive."

She ran to him, laughing. "We must forgive each other, then." She clasped the man with relief. Then she stepped back a moment with a short laugh. "Give me a moment."

Frigga stood stock still in silence. This sort of reunion was private―and a it ___was _a reunion of two pieces of the same soul. The sort of love she wished on all goodly folk who married truly. This was the sort of love which would drive a good soul to greatness and to save a damned soul from his fate.

Then, to her amazement, the cave began changing. The dusty, uneven floor became smooth, creamy pink marble. The walls become graceful arches and the curtains of stalactites became canopies and hangings so beautiful that she expected them to sway in any errant breeze. The stone table became a large oval with carved flowers in the surface, as rich as any she had seen at Asgard. The other rooms now had graceful arches leading to them, but she didn't dare stir as she watched the transformations. Here and there―mostly on shelves―globes of pink glowing light like the first lights of dawn appeared along with what appeared to be golden lanterns with green glass in them. Loki and the woman simply stood there as they took place, acting as though this happened every time, which, for all she knew, it did.

Loki glanced up at her with a soft, genuine smile on his face and pointedly glanced around. _Special circumstances_, he had said. She smiled back, seeing them embrace.

"My dear," Loki whispered softly. "I have a surprise for you."

She giggled. Now, instead of a nondescript gray cloak and a similarly plain dress, she wore a cloak of gray velvet with a heavy fall of lace at the brow of the hood. The dress underneath was―diaphanous—and the queen hurriedly looked away, choosing charmed by the transformations in the cave.

"Locca," she smiled, reaching for his hands. "You have forgiven me and returned. I need nothing else."

He cleared his throat and pointedly sat her down on the elaborately carved chair. Plucking a carved bottle from the shelf and one of the two (only two!) glasses, he poured a delicate finger of wine. "My darling―I was thinking that...," he stammered as he pressed the glass into her hand. "Well...there's no way to gently say this, but I've brought someone very special with me."

The younger woman's hand shook visibly and she set down the glass with a clatter. "Oh, no-" she choked. "I... Oh my-" Suddenly, in a whoosh of magic, she was more...decently clothed. In fact, her clothes were plain but notably modest with a high neckline and sleeves down to her wrists in the most uninspiring and unflattering shape and color imaginable. "I...didn't hear anyone..."

Loki stroked her brow suddenly and fretfully. "Darling―there is no need to get upset. Just take a deep breath and know that there are friends here." She took a deep breath, but even the illusory transformations shimmered in her distress. "It's my mother," he tried to explain, gently.

"Oh!" The young woman stood up and bobbed slightly. She wrung her hands.

"My son," Frigga chided gently. "You could have announced us both." She looked at the young woman and tried to smile. "I can't tell you how happy I am to meet you..." She glanced at Loki. "Son―why don't you light a fire or something? I am very cold from the journey and I'm sure that we'd be more comfortable without our cloaks." With a whoosh of wild magic―the brazier fired up brilliantly before flaming down. Frigga glared at her son with an obvious air of ___we'll speak of this later. _Loki contrived an innocent look and then gestured to the other woman. However, Loki did conjure benches to surround the table and Frigga took a seat.

"Locca," the other woman whispered. "I...did not...know..." She wrung her hands and both Frigga and Loki felt the first prickles of Wild Magic.

"Calm yourself, my dove," he whispered, trying again to press the glass of wine in her hand. "You don't want to get too upset."

"Of course my dear," Frigga said, recognizing the dangerous game whirling around her. Unless the child calmed down, the entire place might suddenly burst into flame or be pummeled with rocks or some other disaster. "My son...___Locca_is not at fault―this time." Loki turned scarlet. "I insisted on joining him to meet you and I'm so glad that I have!"

"Oh," she said again. Suddenly shy and lacking something better to do, she sipped her wine.

"I am often in trouble in my parents' eyes," Loki added with a markedly calm demeanor. "As though I were no more than 12 and still constantly filching sweets from the kitchen." The women laughed a bit nervously at that.

Suddenly, the prickles of magic flowed away. Frigga let out a breath. "I suppose that it is always dire for young people to meet parents."

"Yes―rather it is," the other woman fidgeted.

"How much has he told you of the family?" Frigga pressed, searching for common ground.

"Nothing much," she shrugged. "Most of the time...when we..._talk_, we speak of his travels..."

"Ahhh...," Frigga nodded. "And your family?"

"My father is...gone. And my mother was...a camp follower who favored him and left when I was born."

"I'm so sorry, my dear. As I was saying, I insisted on accompanying my son so that I could...," she murmured. "Well...he came to me asking about cohosh and it seemed important to come."

"You want to know if there is a baby," the younger woman replied softly, her hands clasping her cloak.

"My dear," Frigga tried again to soothe her. "I thought that you might like a woman to speak to, since your own mother is not here." She glanced at Loki. "Why don't you let us get acquainted and do something useful?"

"See?" Loki chortled. "I am no more than 12 in her eyes and must be told to wash my face and hands, to say 'please' and 'thank you', to be polite and-"

"That's enough," Frigga chided.

"There it is again!" Loki insisted with a laugh.

But the other woman laughed so heartily it was a relief. And, somehow, the austere settings became even more comfortable in response.

Loki stood beside her and took her hand in his. Kissing the knuckles, he smiled sadly. "My love―she is right, though. It's all right―she will not judge you harshly." Gingerly he reached up and drew her hood down to her shoulders.

Frigga swallowed her own gasp. Had she not tended Odin's wounded eye herself, she might have been ill. The livid scars went practically from ear to ear across her face. "My dear," she murmured again, shooting Loki an evil look. No wonder the poor child was in the dark―literally—about his identity. For a long, uncomfortable moment, they sat there, trying to wrap their minds around this clandestine meeting.

Loki recovered first. "You have not unpacked what I brought last time," he mentioned casually. "Should I be mortally wounded?"

"Hardly," Frigga shot back. "The poor child is undoubtedly worn out getting them in here and you probably threw them to one side in your haste." She took out her own bag and pack and set them on the table. "However, I will help her and you will make yourself useful by bringing us some water to drink. Hot water for me please, so that I can prepare my tisane."

The other woman rose up and seemed to huddle against him. "There is a hot spring in the back. I will fetch hot water if you will go to the spring for cool water."

"As you wish, my ladies," he said with a grin. Bowing, he took a bowl from the shelf and went outside as his lady fair took the pot and went to the back.

Frigga debated taking him to task for this. By Odin's beard, there seemed to be a lack of essentials. Only one pot, two glasses and a motley collection of some 4 bowls. The few knives and spoons were in a crock on one side of the shelf and two smoothly sanded pieces of wood―undoubtedly driftwood―seemed to be the only fittings this place had. Precious little here to be comfortable. She began drafting the list in her head―additional bowls, plates and pots were needed; as well as silverware; a few trunks were needed to provide storage as well as a place to sit... Hurriedly, she conjured several thick, ceramic steins and set them on the table.

The other woman drifted back from the hot spring, the pot practically still boiling. She set the pot on the table and went to a covered basket to fetch bread and a crock of honey from a shelf which went on one of the driftwood trenchers. Frigga hummed softly as she poured the hot water into two of the steins and then mixed mint, lemon balm, and chamomile in them. Deftly, she sliced the bread and spread honey on a piece to nibble on.

Taking her stein, she sat down again, hoping to coax the other woman into relaxing. "So how long have you known my son?"

The other woman shrugged sheepishly, her hands flowing over the table surface smoothly until she felt the steins. Her fingers gingerly picked up the one empty one to feel it all over. "I...only mark time in a clumsy fashion." She gestured at her face. "It is difficult to tell time now."

"Of course. How thoughtless of me," Frigga nodded, then tried to smooth over the silence with more small talk. "My son told me that your father was in the Asgard army?"

"Yes. He died in the last Jotun invasion," she said simply. Then she sniffed the air. "You have made your tisane? I smell mint..."

"Yes, my dear," Frigga nodded. "Would you like some? It is specially brewed to soothe nerves and to ease the stomach. I'm afraid that at my age, one relies on all the help one can get for late nights."

The other woman relaxed visibly and took the tisane filled stein offered. Quite soon, she spoke of her garden and animals. Her desire to have more herbs and plants, but a marked lack of place to grow them given the limitations of the island. How she had seen the outskirts―the unfashionable or dodgy ones at least!-of Asgard with her father. She sipped the steeped brew and when Loki came back in, he was relieved to see the two women chatting.

"Ladies," he announced. "I see you have both opted for warm drinks."

"Yes," Frigga replied serenely. "We were just chatting and waiting for your return."

When Loki sat down, the bench he had conjured scraped the floor. Suddenly the atmosphere was charged again as the sound hit the air.

"You...brought some chairs?" the younger woman asked timidly.

"Yes...," Loki replied, trying to think up what to say next. "Benches rather."

Frigga took charge again. "So, tell me your name child. I should like to know who it is who will be making my son civilized."

"Sigyn," she replied.

Loki flushed dark red as he realized that he had never even asked her her name. It had simply never come up and they had fallen into pet names for each other so quickly it had not been missed any more than his true name. Or title, for that matter.

"Sigyn," Frigga repeated. "What a lovely name." She set down her drink. "I'm so glad that we did go to the trouble to bring out chairs and extra dishes. I should like to visit often. Particularly if...?" Her voice faded meaningfully.

Sigyn smiled. "I would like that," she said softly. Then, with great hesitation, she stammered, "I think...yes, there is a child."

Loki's eyes went wide and sparkled with emerald fire. Frigga took in a deep breath and then smiled broadly. "I am so very glad to hear it. I like children."

Sigyn smiled softly. "So do I. Although-" she frowned and gestured. "I'm not sure how I could have a child here where there is so little."

Frigga winked at Loki. "We can see in the morning what would need to be done. Things always look better in the morning after a pleasant night's sleep." She yawned comically widely. "Of course, there is always the possibility-"

Loki gestured violently and shook his head, knowing where this was leading.

"Of what?" Sigyn asked.

Frigga frowned and stared at her son in confusion. "Of you joining us on the mainland of Asgard."

Sigyn began to shake violently. "I couldn't...! Please understand," she stammered. "I would love to be part of your family and it's not you..." Frigga frowned in confusion and Loki closed his eyes and prepared for the worst to come out. "But I could not bear to be so close!"

"Close to what?" Frigga whispered. Her heart sank as she knew she wasn't going to like the answer. Loki knew she wouldn't like the answer―his sudden pale features and tightly pressed lips told her that.

"Close to _Thor!_" Sigyn whimpered back, the stein shuddering and smashing in her hand in a burst of wild magic that glowed briefly with purple fire.

Loki stood first, pulling her close to him and dusting the specks of crockery off of Sigyn's dress. "Darling...quiet now. We're not going anywhere. We will figure this out later-"

Frigga gaped for a moment. Because of _Thor_? What in Odin's name did ___that _mean? She glanced at the crockery, suddenly keenly aware of the wisdom Loki displayed in housing this woman in a mountain cave surrounded by stone furniture. "Of course―if you don't wish it. There is no need to be upset." Then she stood briskly. "We will speak of this in the morning after we have rested."

Sigyn stood beside Loki. She frowned and turned her face up to his suddenly. "Locca, there is only the one bed."

Loki started for a moment. He had honestly never contemplated guests visiting this place. With a sigh, he said, "Why don't I go to the meadow and sleep there? The night is yet warm."

Frigga frowned in embarrassment. "I could always leave the bed to you..."

Sigyn settled it. "We will go under the trees in the meadow. It will be...fun." She gestured towards the back of the cave. "There is a bed through there."

Frigga nodded to her son and watched as they gathered her cloak, his cloak and a spare blanket and headed outside. Fortunately, it was still warm, but dear Odin―what was Loki thinking? He obviously adored the girl, but magic and wild magic did not mix well! What would become of their children? She shook a little. Their children―what about him? The secret of his birth would be out as the child drew a first breath and _then _there would be hell to pay. And rightly so as he demanded to know the truth of his birth.

She unpacked her few belongings―the packets of cohosh (which she wanted to burn now), the little jars of mint, lemon balm, chamomile, cinnamon, rosemary, galangal, grains of paradise, and peppercorns and a few lemons. This had seemed like such a good idea―to see who had made her son so happy, to share in a little adventure and see a bit of life outside the palace. Now it felt like a betrayal―of Loki for forcing him to share this secret, of Thor, and of her place as queen. It even felt like a betrayal of Sigyn―who didn't seem likely even know the great storm she stood in the center of.

Weary, she went explored the cave. Borrowing a bowl, she took water from the hot spring. She noted the long pieces of drying linen that were carefully folded to one side. A cake of the dragon's blood scented soap was in a little ceramic dish―Loki's favorite scent. The real furnishings were sturdy and plain but serviceable while the enchantment made them comfortable. The raised dais and bed was enchanted to be comfortable and the sheets while good were not the silky type used by her family. After some minutes, the lights dimmed greatly, though did not go out. For a moment, she simply sat on the bed, thinking.

It was unsettling to be the Queen and to not even know that this place existed nor that her son had set up a living space here. What was she to do? The girl was not the royal match that she had hoped for, but plainly adored her son. As terrified as she seemed to even consider the idea of living on the mainland―anxious enough that her magic had come unbidden―Frigga could bet (were she the type to) that Sigyn would never consider living in the palace. But this was the firstborn grandchild―_her _grandson or granddaughter. And the moment that Loki acknowledged her, she would be marked as a target. Frigga laughed shortly to herself. Some target! She could likely defend herself well given half a chance if the walls outside were any indication. She reminded herself to ask Loki about that later as she yawned widely and genuinely.

A soft knock was heard. "Enter," she called out.

Loki stepped inside, glancing at the bottles on the table. "Mother," he called softly. Perhaps it was too late and his mother slept, but it was important to try to speak to her tonight.

"In here, my son," Frigga answered.

Loki approached the curved doorway warily. His eyes darted around, taking in the elaborate dais, canopy arches and green lanterns dangling from non-existent hooks. "Mother―we must talk."

"How charming," Frigga agreed dryly. "I was considering the same thing."

For lack of somewhere better, he sat on the corner of the bed and leaned against one of the tall columns at the corner of the bed. Nodding, he said, "I suppose you have questions?" He sighed and shot her a quick sideways glance. "I knew this would happen."

Frigga only smiled and waited. With reluctance, Loki told what he knew―that she had been wounded by an errant shot of Thor's, the Jotun's healing touch, the scarring, the magic. In a rare moment, he even told how he had secreted her here, nursed her to health and let her live in peace.

"And the battle outside?" Frigga prompted with tears in her eyes. Her heart broke as she considered how tragic this was. If only Sigyn had not been so hurt by Thor! Of course, it would break Odin's heart that Thor had been so careless. And, bless him, Thor would want to do right by the child―if he only knew!

Loki conjured a lacy handkerchief and handed it to her. "I didn't do it," he said softly. "I went home to find that Thor had botched the negotiations with the merchant's guild. I had no idea that Thor and his friends were seeking her here."

"Heimdall," Frigga concluded.

Loki looked at her balefully. "I have cloaked my presence every time."

Frigga smiled at him in maternal condescension. "But does she?" Her son looked startled. "If you disappear and she disappears more or less the same time every time, it doesn't take a sterling wit to consider why."

Loki scratched his chin. "Of course..."

Frigga frowned as she saw her son's mind churning. "But Sigyn is a lovely girl―kind and gentle. I could not have hoped for a gentler disposition." She waved her arm around the room. "And apparently very creative."

Loki grinned roguishly. "It has been...comfortable here whenever I have been here." He paused for a moment. "Mother―Thor should not be here."

She sighed. "No...I think for now, this must remain secret. Until we can unravel her anxiety enough for her to face him—_without killing him—_she must stay here. She and the baby will be safe at least until the babe is weaned."

Loki frowned at that. He had just gotten used to the idea of being a father―seeing a fat little youngling with her hair and his eyes―that he hadn't even considered the practical logistics. Of course the child would need tutoring, clothes, room to wander and safe places to play! Not to mention another room, a crib, blankets and bed. He closed his eyes and sighed at the complicated mess he had managed to make.

"I would have to use magic to get everything here," he said at last with a heavy sigh.

"Or I," Frigga smiled. Then she sighed wistfully. "I do hope for a grandson like you and a granddaughter like her."

"With my luck you'll get a granddaughter like me and a grandson like her," he muttered darkly, folding his arms across his chest. "I was born under a bad star."

"No," Frigga soothed. "Not that." She considered her position thoughtfully. "I guess I must find a name and trade for myself. What about a midwife? Or a healer?"

"A healer or simply a wealthy man's wife," Loki offered. "I will simply say that my father is a diplomat." Frigga smiled at him and his understatement. He smiled in return, figuring out how to work her into the fabric of lies that shrouded this place.

Frigga watched with amusement. Loki―unknown to himself―was obvious in his brooding. He bit the inside of his lip like he had done it since he was a tiny lad on her lap and it made a delicate dimple near his chin when he did it. With a sad sigh, she finally offered, "Loki―she will need to be told sometime."

"Why?" he demanded petulantly, emerald eyes flashing fire. "She is content here! She loves me and does not covet the crown! She wants only to have a portion of my time―the rest can serve Asgard's needs."

"She is giving birth to a prince or princess! Would you have her unknowing of this? How important this child is? And the child―would it serve Asgard to have the child ignorant?"

"Ignorant?" he glared. "Do you think I would refuse to allow her to have whatever books and knowledge she could ever want?"

Frigga counted to 10 in her head in exasperation. "I do not consider that you would refuse her anything. But, if there is a princess, she must learn the ways of the court, how to manage a household and servants, how to arrange for dinners... A boy must learn fighting, diplomacy and skills far beyond this island."

Loki glared at her balefully. "Yet there is only one throne. And presently it is not mine so there is hardly the need to have a full royal education."

"Loki," Frigga sighed, carefully picking her words. She had seen this coming, had known there would come a time when he would question why he was not considered equally with Thor, why he needed all the royal education. She had hoped to arrange a marriage with an elvish princess or some other similar position, but had kept putting it off, hoping that they could find some way to live in peace. How ironic it was that now, here was a place for Loki to be at peace―so long as his brother did not interfere. And Thor would―it was only a matter of time, particularly if he knew of this place and especially if he learned how his actions had forced this to be. How soon! "You are royal by birth. You needed to be prepared to assume the throne of Asgard.

"And we cannot know the twists of fate. I am not unaware that I will likely see Thor fall in a battle. He campaigns too often and has no interest in the necessary diplomacy and politics at home. _You _don't campaign enough―you are far more interested in the day-to-day running of the palace.

"It seems to me that you both need each other in unimaginable ways. He ___needs _someone to tell him of the backstabbing and byplay so that it doesn't strike him unaware. You ___need _a strong general who can stand in battle against Asgard's enemies. He inspires soldiers and armies. You inspire policies that help better our people. You both need each other."

She smiled and reached over to pat Loki's knee. With a sigh, she said, "And I'm always your mother. I will always love you." She raised an eyebrow. "I do not always like what you ___do_, but I do always love you." With that she pointedly shuffled the pillows around. "Now, let your elder sleep. I'm too old to be up all night."

Loki stood, looking at her ironically. "Of course, Mother." He bowed. "We will knock before we come in." He gestured to what now appeared to be a short screened wall in one corner. "There is a hole in the floor for a midden. There is another level beneath this that is below the sea level and the high tide washes it out daily."

"Luxury," she smirked. Loki flushed again. "No, my son. This is understandable. She must be calm and provided for and obviously this was a work in progress." She smiled at him in genuine warmth. "I am impressed. You have provided for her needs with attention to detail, thoroughness and thoughtfulness." She plumped the pillows. "Now, go to your lady fair and enjoy her company."

Loki bowed again and left, closing the door behind him. Picking his way down the path, he looked at the little shadowy figure of Sigyn, curled up in her cloak and simply waiting for him. Her head turned slightly as he came down the meadow. "Locca? Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" he smirked.

"I don't know... Perhaps raiders or traders or falling stars..." She smiled at him. There was a slight warm breeze against her face and hands as he sat down next to her. She kissed his cheek. "Thank you so much for your wonderful surprise." Curling up next time him, she relished the feel of his arm around her shoulders. Flushing almost as dark as her scars, she whispered, "I had truly been afraid of childbirth. Silly really―but all I knew were the stories from the camp followers that my father brought home."

"Ahh," he said in understanding. "And of course they were filled with stories of death and pain." He shrugged. "I suppose that it is harder to have a healthy child if one is constantly following armies and fending for oneself in such situations." He pulled her close to kiss her head. "But you and I will have happy, healthy children. They will be strong and tall..."

"I can believe that now," she confided. "It is a relief to have another woman to speak to of such things. Not to mention that she might come here to visit." She smiled. "You are so busy with your trading, it would be nice to have the anticipation of another's visits." She frowned in thought. "Although perhaps some bell or something, so that I know it is her would be nice."

"I will see to it," he promised, although at the moment, he had no particular idea how.

"I know," she smiled. "You take such good care of me." She leaned into him and then sighed. "If only I could take such care of you." Then she gestured at her face and eyes. "But the sight of me would scare off your customers." Loki started to protest but she laughed instead. "Or―heaven and Odin forbid!-I might accidentally turn one into a chicken or some such."

Loki couldn't help but laugh. There was one ambassador from the dwarvish realms that puffed and preened so much that he might be improved as a chicken. "Little love―you are a delight to me."

Together they spread their cloaks and blankets into a nest which―while not particularly as comfortable as the bed inside―was warm enough. They whispered to each other of sweet things and nothing in particular. There was not enough wood to build a fire―the only two trees being presently occupied with bearing fruit and nuts―only a few twigs. But they happily enough spent the warm night outside, him watching the stars and her lulled by his steady heartbeat under her hand.

The next day dawned early. Loki awoke―stiff and sore from spending his diverting evening outside―to the sound of retching. Immediately fully awake, he spun around to find Sigyn leaning over the cliffs. "Be careful," he shouted angrily. Stomping up, he held her around the waist as her stomach heaved. When she could at last stand, he held her close, brushing her hair from her face. Gingerly, he lead her to the freshwater spring and bathed her brow. "Are you all right?!" he demanded. "What is wrong?"

"It is in the mornings that my stomach is ill," she whispered. "If I do not eat too much, then by supper I feel better."

Loki puller her arm and stomped to the cave. Knocking angrily, he waited scarcely a moment before coming in side, dragging Sigyn behind him. "Mother!" he called angrily. "Sigyn is ill!"

Frigga came out of the "hot spring room" (as she had dubbed it―refusing to give it the dignity of 'bathing chamber'), and looked them over. "If she is ill," she said in matter-of-fact tone that brooked nothing but obedience. "then please have her sit down."

Loki pulled out the chair and sat Sigyn in it, wrapping her in both of their cloaks. "We must travel―there is not enough here to heal-"

"Child," Frigga interrupted smoothly and calmly. "Is this a complaint of the stomach? Most commonly in the morning upon rising?" Sigyn nodded, cocking her head to listen to her lover's irritated pacing. "This will pass, but-" she shot a singularly evil glare at Loki. "-you must take care of yourself." She picked up the pot. "We will make you a tisane―the same as last night―and it will help your stomach. I have brought mint and I think that there might be some ___ginger__-" _She shot another look at Loki who conjured a bottle of ginger. "-in my pack if you will bring it." She smiled. "Ahh, thank you, son." With a skilled hand, she mixed her drink and pressed Sigyn to drink it. "The sickness in the morning will pass soon. You will have a period of feeling well then and then-" She chuckled here. "-your child will be flipping and turning and kicking and you won't feel like eating much again. But every kick will remind you of his or her strength."

Loki felt his gut clench as Sigyn gingerly sipped. The feeling of being helpless while she was so ill sat like a weight on his chest. Frigga was amazing, though, offering bread and the tisane and suggestions on things to do to help. In no time at all, he realized that Frigga had things well in hand as she and Sigyn speculated on what was needed to make the cave more comfortable, clean and safe for a child. Fortunately, he always carried a small supply of paper and ink―a hazard of being the type of person to jot notes as some piece of whimsy or wit tickled his jaded fancy. Frigga calmly took the wrinkled roll of sheets and a sharpened piece of a stick and began jotting notes of the things that could be brought back on later trips.

Sigyn smiled softly, feeling much warmed and in better spirits with the other woman there. So much of her ailments that seemed so troublesome and frightening―the sudden attack of appetites for strange things, the feeling of faintness, the daily illness in the morning―now seemed so _normal _and understandable. She pushed aside the vague feeling of unease―things seemed just a bit too convenient―but she was glad just the same of someone who could make this understandable. Of course, it was overwhelming listening to the other woman describe the myriad things she might need―clothing and nappies and blankets and a thousand other things! Locca would not appreciate this child or her spending all his profits.

Frigga stopped for a breath and to take a sip of water and Loki broke in. "As intriguing as this all is," he smirked wryly. "how about I see about a fresh fish for supper? Mother brought peppercorns and lemon to go with it."

Frigga smiled at him. Though he did not know it, Odin had been the same way when she had carried Thor. He had often tired of the endless discussions and whirlwind of shopping and preparation that accompanied a baby and had often found just about any excuse to leave it up to her whim and whimsy. "That sounds lovely, dear," she replied. "Fresh fish would be delicious." Then she frowned. "Unless it upsets Sigyn's stomach, of course."

Sigyn smiled. "I have been craving fish," she giggled and flushed red. "Silly, I know, when I wouldn't be able to do much to prepare it."

"Nonsense," Loki smiled at her. "We can find a way. Besides, after supper, we can unwrap the packages and put them away."

"Supper?!" Sigyn gulped. Had the hours flown so fast? "Oh dear―the garden! The animals!" She stood suddenly and hustled outside. The goats were just beginning to poke around the edges of the garden and the chickens had begun settle from pecking. With haste she did her necessary chores, Frigga lending a hand as much as she could. Eggs and milk were gathered, as well as two fat tomatos―the first from the garden.

By the time the sun settled over the horizon, the little island was quiet once more. There was fish frying in oil that had been brought from the mainland markets (in a hastily conjured pan), with hints of lemon juice and cracked peppercorns. The tomatoes were salted and peppered and dressed with oil with a little hard cheese broken over them.

"Locca, this sea bass was divine," Sigyn smiled and she spooned some up into her mouth. "You simply must have a magical touch with a rod and reel-"

Frigga about choked on her bite of fish. Swallowing a large gulp of water, she coughed. "Yes...a magical touch," she agreed.

Sigyn started to frown, as though trying to make sense of things she could not see. "Was it something I said?"

"No, dear," Frigga lied, glowering at Loki. "Just a bit of a fish bone. Nothing more." She sighed heavily, debating what to say next. Finally she shifted to a more neutral topic to smooth over the uncomfortable silence. "If you cannot come to the mainland, we will have to start by making a list and bringing items back here for you. What do you think is the most important to start with? Perhaps some cloth for blankets and such? Or a basket for him to sleep in? Obviously a few more plates and so forth. A few small spoons, I think."

"I'm...overwhelmed by all this," Sigyn admitted. She wriggled in the chair she usually reserved for Locca. Tonight, he absolutely insisted on putting her in it. "Although I think that we should be careful with the coins." She reached out and felt the warm masculine hand take hers. "We do not want to beggar Locca in the process. We should start with a budget and go from there."

Frigga wanted―desperately―to start sputtering that there was no need for her to think of copper coins, but Loki's slanting glance sideways reminded her of his lies. "___Damn him,__" _she thought. "___His lies have made this more complicated than necessary!" _Then, with a sly, innocent smile she said brightly, "I'm sure that's a good idea, but Locca's father is an important...diplomat. We would be glad to get whatever our grandchild needs."

Loki almost choked himself, hearing his lies spun out back at him so fluidly. Then he chuckled softly. "Indeed, Father will all but insist on helping with the child."

"Oh!" Sigyn gasped. "I had not realized... I mean―you...we so rarely speak of your family."

"Did you think I was a foundling? Or hatched out of a snake's egg? Perhaps abandoned on Mother's doorstep?" Loki teased, repeating some of the more vile snarls that Sif had laid into him.

"No, of course not darling," Sigyn soothed. "I...just hadn't considered it. It was my mistake." She wriggled again. "But, if it is all the same to you both, I would like to consider what to do outside. I'm afraid that it is a bit stuffy in here for me."

"Of course," Loki soothed her. "Take all the time you need." He smiled thinly at Frigga. "I will join you soon."

The two Asgardians glowered at each other―both of them united in the thought it was good that Sigyn couldn't see them as she left. Frigga set her mouth, determined to lecture Loki on the importance of telling Sigyn the truth as soon as possible. Loki mimicked her, determined to make sure she understood the delicate balance here: this was after all, _his _domain and _his _child!

"Loki," Frigga hissed as soon as she closed the door. "Tell her. Already she is beginning to question your stories!"

"Mother," Loki hissed back. "You will say nothing! It is my right and I will be the one to do this." He gestured angrily. "I'm hardly a youngling to be lead about by the hand!"

Frigga nodded at him, her anger draining away. Loki had not been a child for so very long! "As long as you do it," she sighed. She gestured lamely at the door. "Go out to her. I must leave in the morning."

Loki nodded slowly. Already he was called away. He had barely had any time with his little temptress! With a deep sigh, he nodded again. "I know that I must speak to her." He cocked an emerald stare at her. "But if she finds out about Thor―would her magic lead her to reject the child? Consider ___that _fly in your ointment of truth."

Frigga paled. "I do not know," she whispered as Loki stormed out. Mechanically, she cleaned up supper, considering how very little she knew of Wild Magic and how very badly she wanted a grandchild.

"Locca―smell the air," Sigyn called excitedly from the meadow. "There is a storm coming."

"A storm?" Loki looked at the hazy clouds high over head. He stood beside her, marveling at the few stars that peeked out between the clouds.

"You can smell the air―it smells...fresh," Sigyn wrapped her arms around him. "Any other visit we could spend the day indoors, but I suppose with Mother around―you don't suppose she minds if I call her 'Mother', do you?-we will have to be decent." She giggled. "Thank you so much for bringing her here."

Loki whirled her around in his arms. "Does my lady waltz?" Sigyn giggled again in his arms as he whirled her around again.

Suddenly, he stood stock still, staring upward. Sigyn gingerly reached out to trace his jaw. "Get inside," he barked, pulling her inside the cave. "Mother―we must leave now!"

"What?!" she said sleepily. She glanced at Sigyn. "Why?"

"The Bifrost has opened," he said sharply. He dropped a chaste peck on Sigyn's forehead. "I'm sorry, darling. But we must go."

"Of course," Sigyn replied uncertainly. She vaguely remembered hearing tales of the Bifrost, but she thought that they must be stories. And why was a trader and merchant so concerned? "But-"

"I'll explain when I return," he gritted out as Frigga gathered her pack.

Frigga tried to not gasp as everything returned to its original state. The bed she had just left was a mat on the floor. The table she had dined at was again a crudely shaped rock thing. The lights dimmed to a mere flicker. Somehow it disturbed her more to see it fade than it had been to see it come into being.

They fled down to the beach and into the craft. Sigyn's smokey gray cloak could not be seen in the dim lighting as Loki turned about, but Frigga waved and called out "We will see you soon."

The flight to the palace of Asgard was accomplished with neither delay nor flourish. It was easy enough for Loki to assume the illusion of formal dress and to walk through the halls, acting for all the world that he had just come in from a relaxing stroll. Frigga dithered for a moment and then simply copied her son and took on the illusion of her formal dress.

Odin was bellowing in the great hall, calling for his warriors. When he saw her, he froze for a moment. "Frigga," he sighed in relief. "When we couldn't find you, we were worried that the Frost Giants had taken you."

"Frost Giants?" she asked in alarm.

"Two of their vessels were seen sailing in the western sea. Thor saw them from the high watchtower," he explained. "We dispatched them, but then could not account for either you or-" His singular eye wandered the hallway and finally spied Loki lurking in the corner.

"I see I have been missed," Loki smirked. "Is all well?"

"All is well, my son," Odin forced a stiff smile. "As you can see, your brother has-"

"I heard," Loki purred stiffly. "He went after the invaders." He nodded. "Very noble."

Frigga coughed slightly. "We are all well." She shot a look at Loki. "However, we must talk soon."

Odin glanced at her stern face and nodded. Frigga thwarted in her task was an unhappy Frigga and thus, the entire castle would be unhappy in relatively short order. "Of course," he agreed. "As soon as Thor returns-"

Frigga shook her head. "This time, it must be just the three of us." She smiled a little sadly. "We will explain."

Thor chose that inopportune moment to make his arrival. "Father!" he bellowed with his red cape surrounding him in scarlet swirls. "You would not have believed the battle!" He glanced around, then embraced Frigga. "Mother! We could not account for you-"

"Of course you were busy," she said smoothly. She patted his chest. "Now―to the healing room with you so that you can be checked out."

"They won't find anything," Thor smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "We had them at bay from the moment we got there."

"Still, off you go. Just to be sure." Frigga gently nudged him down the hall. "I must speak to the Allfather and Loki for a few moments and see to your victory celebration."

Thor, still smiling at the maternal love that glowed from Frigga, turned and walked down the hall, tossing his great hammer in the air and catching it like a small child with a ball. That he completely passed the hallway for the healers and proceeded to the feasting hall did not go unnoticed by either of his parents.

"So what is this about?" Odin asked Frigga quietly.

Frigga did not reply, but opened up one of the small salons and herded everyone inside. Loki chose a chair close to the fireplace and Odin chose the twin chair that had been pulled over to a low, cushioned bench. Frigga frowned at the awkwardness of the meeting as she looked at them from the doorway.

Loki felt a tug on his conscience. His mother was upset, still trying to shield him from Odin's righteous anger as yet another tangle of lies and mess came to light. Then, in a flash of insight, he considered his own child. Sighing, he stood and led Frigga to the bench and then solemnly turned to Odin. He tried to smirk, tried to bury himself beneath the layers of false gaeity and the pretence of serenity, but nothing would come. Taking a deep breath, he looked into his father's eye, seeing the resigned acceptance that his younger son had made another mess to be cleaned up.

Frigga grasped Odin's large, calloused hands tightly. A tear trickled down her cheek. Odin looked at her with a sad, curious smile and wiped it away. "What has happened? Where were you?"

"She was with me, Father," Loki said softly. "We were..." He gestured lamely, meaninglessly and could not meet Odin's eyes so he stared into the fireplace. "We were visiting someone I know."

"I was not told of any visit," Odin said in a cautious tone. He had been the ruler of Asgard too long to not be aware of when there was more to a story. And Loki's stories always required delicate care and precision to unwind. "Loki, what have you done?"

Frigga let out a watery gurgle and began to speak, but Loki interrupted her. "I am about to be a father."

Odin's eye lit up in a stark mixture of amazement, confusion and alarm. "What is this? Is this another one of your tricks?" He glanced at Frigga, who met neither of their eyes. "What is truly going on?"

Loki interrupted Frigga again. "I am about to be a father," he repeated, sotto voice.

"How?" Odin asked as the news began to sink in.

In any other situation, Loki would have made some flippant remark like 'Oh, the usual way' or some brazen, crude comment on the exact position he favored. Now, this seemed too...unique to handle with anything but appropriately solemn manners. With reluctance, he stood in front of Odin. "I helped a girl-"

"Sigyn," Frigga sighed.

"And she and I have been lovers. She is expecting my child."

Odin frowned in concentration. "Are you sure that she is with child?"

"I cast spells with her unaware," Frigga said. "While Loki was doing errands for us."

"You've ___met _the girl?" Odin demanded. "And neither of you thought to tell anyone where you were?!" He turned an angry glare at Loki. "You..._irresponsible...reckless-!"_

"That's enough," Loki said, for once silencing the Allfather. "Yes, I was reckless and possibly irresponsible. But the child is there and is ___mine _and I will do anything to ensure the child's safety."

"The mother," Odin demanded shortly. "Who is she? Don't say she's married?" His eye snapped blue fire and met the emerald smolder of his son's gaze, holding it.

Loki looked away first, his pride fisting in his stomach. "She is...was the daughter of a colonel in our army. She..fell into my arms and called for my help." He glanced up again angrily and restlessly gestured. "Isn't that what you've been telling me to do? Help people who call on me?" He straightened and tried to calm down. "I helped her. I healed her wounds and took her to a safe place."

"Where is this place?" Odin demanded.

"It is an island far from here." Loki shrugged. "She lives there with her goats, chickens and garden."

"And precious little else," Frigga muttered sadly.

Odin turned to look at her. For a moment, there was silence as Loki regarded him with proud silence and he regarded Frigga's wistful expression. "Well," he said slowly. "This is...a surprise." Odin gestured to the chair and Loki perched on it with a wary expression.. "What is she like, this Sigyn?" He frowned, glaring again at his younger son. "What does she want?"

Loki smirked and then smiled at his father. It was...ironic that the truth would be more confusing to Odin than any lies he could embroider at this point. "She wants to be left alone."

Odin rose to his feet. A lesser mortal might have sputtered or stomped angrily, but he spoke with deadly calm. "Do you expect me to believe that you have had a relationship with this woman and she bears your child, but does not have any further designs? Do you not realize the wiles of treacherous women? Women who may have designs on the crown?" He glared down in judgement. "You are not clever at all to have fallen for this trap!"

Loki shot to his feet, cheeks flushed with an angry retort. "Hardly have I fallen for a trap." He raked a glance over the older man's frame. "Yet you seem to have fallen for the very treacherous pit that you warned us against―the pit of prejudice!"

"That's enough!" Frigga snapped. "Neither of you are speaking rationally." She gestured to the chair. "Loki, sit down. It doesn't not serve Asgard _or _Sigyn to argue at this point." Loki flopped on the chair, pressing his fingertips in a bridge over his separated palms and glared at them both.

"Odin," Frigga said more calmly. She felt his gaze shift to her, as though she were called to stand as a witness in some important matter. "Allfather, it was I who pressed Loki to take me to her." She flushed. "He asked me about black cohosh and blue cohosh and I became concerned. Concerned enough to journey with him to the island and meet the girl." She clasped her sweaty hands in front of her, willing herself not to fidget restlessly. "When I arrived, I was greeted well and generously as a guest. I supped with her and we discussed her pregnancy. As we spoke, Loki left to fish for our supper I remained in her company. I cast a spell to confirm her pregnancy while she was unaware."

Odin looked like he was about to snort. Instead, he heaved a great sigh. "And how is it that you know that she has no designs on Asgard?"

Frigga swallowed heavily and glanced at Loki. Loki only nodded stiffly. She looked towards the Allfather again, holding his gaze. "Because she has no idea who we are." She could no longer stop the tears from filling her gaze, despite the blatant disbelief in Odin's eyes. "She has no idea who we are, nor what we look like because she is blind."

Odin looked at Frigga as though she had grown feathers. "Blind? But how? When?" He took Frigga's hands in his. "How is it that she was alone?"

Frigga swallowed heavily, feeling her heart break. No one could escape the storm that was about to break and she felt the tide sweeping her away. "She has no family left. After her father...died and she was blinded, she became a beggar in the poorest section."

"Blinded? But how is it that the healers could not help her?" Odin pressed. "We have generous provisions for those who cannot afford the aid. Was she abused?"

"No, Allfather," Frigga said sadly. "It is because they ___could _not help her."

"She hid in a basket of candles on the battlefield," Loki added. "I would guess it was candles meant to mark the graves of the dead. An ill-placed throw of Mjolnir set them alight around her as the Jotuns attacked-"

Odin turned slowly. His golden skin paled, as though he were reconsidering all he had ever known about his sons. "But such burns could have been healed..."

Loki wasn't even looking at his parents. "Jotuns surrounded her and she hid. She watched as a Jotun healer tried to drag a fallen warrior away." Loki swallowed heavily. "The..._creature _fell to the ground and played dead as the army advanced. When it saw that she had not revealed its whereabouts, it healed her by cooling the burns. Then-" His jaw clamped shut as he considered how hurt Sigyn might be to have her pain revealed to the Allfather.

Frigga whined and all but collapsed against Odin. Odin wrapped an arm around her as she broke down in silent tears. "Then what...son?" he asked gently.

"Then ___Thor_blasted it into bits, along with its comrade." Loki's face twisted into a macabre snarl. "Thor's lightning burned them away and unfortunately took her eyes as well."

Frigga couldn't stop the tears that dripped onto the Allfather's armor. Odin's heart must be breaking under this onslaught. He had gone stone still, still as a mountain, in his shock. Even the arm he had around her was stiff and still.

"Go on," Odin urged.

Loki finally looked at his parents. It was as though he were looking at strangers he had never seen before. "The Jotun magic meant that the healers could not help her." He stood angrily. "And while we are at it, do you know how her father died? _Thor_." He gestured in a mockery of Thor's throwing swing. "Thor rammed into him and pressed him into an enemy weapon. She got to see ___that _at least before he so generously blinded her and then ran ___past her _and left her to die on the field."

Odin sat at last, numb to his wife and son staring at him. "Thor did this?" He stared at the floor, not seeing the rich wood flooring nor the intricate rug underneath his feet. "Thor―my son..."

"My brother," Loki snapped.

The moments of silence stretched on. At last Frigga whispered, "All she wants is to live in peace on her island-"

"Without Thor," Loki added.

"Without Thor," Frigga nodded.

"And what of us? What of Loki?" Odin asked softly to himself more than his wife. "Does she expect us to never see the babe?" Odin looked at his younger son with the questions burning in his blue eye and seeming a thousand years older than he ever had before.

"There is more," Loki sighed. Frigga looked sharply at Loki but did not interrupt him. "She does not simply want to avoid Thor like many who would simply cross the street to avoid an undesirable person. She wants ___absolutely _no part of him, of Asgard or of any person that might be related to him."

"And yet, you..." Odin asked, questions alight in his face.

"Yes," Loki admitted, surprisingly without rancor or venom. "She has no idea. She believes that she simply bumped into a passing stranger who helped her." He swallowed heavily. "I let her believe that lie―that I was only a passing stranger, that I was a merchant trader, and that I had no more than occasional business in Asgard."

Odin nodded slowly, waiting for the rest.

Loki was again lost in thought. "I let her believe that because...it seemed safer." He cocked a wry grin at his father questioning gaze. "She has Wild Magic. She does not particularly want it, but it is there. And when something reminds her of Thor, it goes off." He flashed his fingers into the air and then folded them again, like an explosion. "On the island, she has a safe refuge where she gardens, cooks and lives in the peace she wants. I go there at times to see to her welfare and bring her some few supplies."

Frigga's lips cocked into half a smile. "You do not mention her talents, Loki." When Odin looked at her for explanation, she added, "Truthfully, she is warm and creative. Her Wild Magic comes to her unbidden, true. When she is at peace and...around us, it flows from her like water from a fountain and her cave becomes comfortable. Almost luxurious.

"But when she is frightened or anxious, it becomes destructive. Glass or ceramics shatter and, from what I saw, fires or other things happen."

"Thor visited her," Loki added almost unnecessarily. "I found out about it afterwards―after they had gone. Apparently, she can defend herself quite well when she is cornered." He stared again into the fireplace moodily. "However, I suppose that the details would be best left for Thor himself to explain..."

Thor sat at the high table, surrounded by the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif. Platters of viands and rich foods covered the table, along with rounds of cheese, golden goblets of rich red wine and great tankards of honey mead. Volstagg sat with one of his children asleep on his knee, thumb stuck in the mouth. Fandral had three ladies lounging and supping around him, gently competing for his attention. Hogun sat there with modest portions of simply prepared food still on his plate, listening. Sif sat at Thor's side, listening avidly as they remembered past battles and good times.

An older gentleman in plain clothes came forward and whispered in Thor's ear. Thor looked at him in surprise and then nodded. Sif frowned, noticing the change in Thor's mood from jolly to solemn. He grimaced at her and nodded. "Father calls," he told his friends shortly. The older man nodded in agreement and Thor followed him out.

Fandral looked around in confusion. "Who soured Odin's evening that he would call Thor away?"

"Loki, most likely," Sif snapped. "He's always about some mischief."

"Loki has been conspicuous by his absence," Hogun remarked.

"Come now," Fandral smiled. "We do not have to let this ruin our evening." The ladies around him cooed and giggled. "There is mead and ale and food for everyone and likely as not, Thor is being congratulated as we speak."

Sif stared moodily at her plate. The joy had gone out of her―as though she were a balloon with a leak. "I will take my leave as well," she said. "Perhaps another time..."

"Well," said Volstagg, shifting the child in his lap. "I suppose that we had better be on our way too. It is past bedtime." Cuddling the child, he nodded to the other men and walked home.

"Alas I am abandoned," Fandral said with a grand gesture.

"Oh, surely not!" said the woman on his left.

"You have us," whimpered the one on his right.

"Indeed, lovely ladies," he agreed.

Thor walked down the hallways, following the servant. It was rare for Odin to interrupt his evenings like this―particularly after a battle―which meant that something was seriously wrong. As they passed the wing where the family's quarters were, he felt his unease grow. When they proceeded to the same hallway he had left them in, he could not help but pause and swallow heavily.

The older man turned and smiled at him, a little. "I'm sure that things will work out," he offered timidly.

"And my father did not tell you why he needed to see me?" Thor asked again.

"No, Your Highness," the other replied. "But he did urge me to bring you without delay."

"He was not pleased?" Thor pressed.

"I...It is not my place to say," the older man said.

"Come now...Herm," Thor smiled wanly, finally remembering his name. This old man had been a messenger, swift and sure and constantly going from one end of the palace to the other carrying messages and notes to everyone. "Surely you could let me know...?"

Herm only shrugged. "I believe that he was solemn, Your Highness. But the Allfather does not readily show his feelings."

"Indeed," Thor sighed. "Let's get it over with."

Herm bowed and knocked on the door. Odin's voice bade them enter and Herm opened the door, bowing to Thor as he backed away.

Thor came into the salon, looking at his family in confusion. Frigga was still red eyed and sniffling into a lacy handkerchief as she sat on the bench. Loki was sitting in the chair next to her, stone faced and solemn but holding her hand nonetheless. Odin stood in the middle of the room, watching carefully.

Thor bowed and came forward, sliding another glance to Frigga. She could not or would not meet his eyes. Loki seemed stone faced, looking almost through him.

"Thor Odinson," Odin said softly, but with rich majesty in his voice. Thor stood straight and tall, looking with confusion at his father. "Do you know why I have summoned you?"

"Father, why? What is wrong?" He turned towards Frigga. "Mother―what has happened?"

"You have been accused of very serious deeds," Odin replied solemnly. Not a hint of the immense pain his heart was feeling shown on his face except for one tiny hint of a tear out of his eye. "You have been accused of deeds..." Odin took a deep breath. "Deeds that would forever taint your honor and the honor of your family and the honor of your king."

"What deeds?" Thor demanded. "What madness is this?" He tried to catch his brother's eye. "Loki―is this some game or jest of yours? Mother―what is-?"

"Thor Odinson," Odin continued over him. "You have been accused of injuring an innocent irreparably and in the course of doing so, endangering your men and yourself." Thor looked at his father in confusion. "You have been accused of recklessly pushing a man to his death, leaving behind his daughter who you then injured on the battlefield."

"I do not recall this," Thor said. "The only lady that I have ever seen on a battlefield was the Lady Sif and I would die before I would allow her or any under my command come to harm." He swallowed, trying to desperately think. Was there some instant that he had been careless on the boat? Had someone almost died in battle this night? "Who brings these accusations against me?"

"She cannot be here," Loki finally spoke up. "She has given her testimony to me and I have in turn given it to the Allfather."

"She lies!" Thor shouted.

"Silence!" Odin shouted back, his voice ringing of thunder. "These matters are very grave and must be investigated. Because the lady in question cannot be here, I will travel to her to investigate. If I am satisfied her complaint is valid and has merit, then I will have you stand before our courts to answer the charges."

"Why can't she accuse me in the courts? She would see-!"

Loki said in a dry tone. "That's precisely the point. She ___can't _see―not any more."

Thor nodded to himself. "It is the witch then. On the island." He scratched his beard. "She bore me ill will and set spells upon me."

"She defended herself," Loki insisted. He rose to his feet with grace and spare movements that echoed his inner rage more than the sharpest gesture or shouting could do. "She defended herself against you because she saw her father die because of you. She was blinded―permanently—because of you. She lives like an exile on an island far from here because of you. She wants nothing more than to be allowed to live in peace―_away from you._"

"I will speak with her," Thor said softly. "I will tell her that she is mistaken-"

"Tell us, brother," Loki said, cocking his head slightly. "How did that work out last time?"

"The wi―_lady _would not speak with me," Thor admitted. "She set spells upon me and would speak not with Fandral or Sif." He gathered his racing thoughts for a moment. "We were looking for you, brother. We had been told that she was on that island and might help us find you." He frowned. "Whenever I spoke, she loosed her magic against us. We turned back rather than fight her openly and returned to find that you were here." He reached out his hand to his brother. "Brother...who is this woman? Why does she accuse me? What does she want from me?"

Loki flushed a little. "_She doesn't._" At Thor's questioning glance, he smiled sadly. "That is the part that is...unfathomable." He shrugged elegantly, glancing away. "She wants, truly, to never cross paths with you again."

Thor's mood lightened, seeing a chance at a peaceful settlement. "Then I will never again darken her doorstep. She need never be in my presence again. Does this not solve this issue?"

There was a heavy silence. Loki looked to Frigga for a moment who shook her head ever so slightly. "There is a small problem." Loki finally glanced back at Thor. "She carries my child."

Thor almost smiled and his head swam with a mixture of perverse relief and ale. "Then you ___were _listening when we spoke last."

"What is this?" Odin demanded, looking at the two others.

Loki shrugged. "A drunken jest, Allfather." He turned away and settled again near Frigga, daring Thor to say more.

Thor swallowed heavily, realizing how close he was to making the Allfather considerably more upset. "Is this not cause for celebration, then? Another child for the house of Odin?"

"It would be," Odin remarked dryly. "If the child could be here. As it is-" His voice dropped an octave. "She _apparently _cannot be in your presence without violence."

Thor nodded, suddenly seeing the thorny problem. "And it would be foolish for me to have an extended leave when we are still beset by the Frost Giants." He sighed. "I can be elsewhere in the palace for much of the day to avoid her, but there are still dinners and so on that I must attend."

"I as well, my brother," Loki offered. He did not smile but his eyes seemed a little lighter in understanding. "But if I am here, I cannot be there. If I am there, I neglect my work here."

"Could you speak for me, Loki?" Thor asked. "Could you give her my apologies? Offer her any reward for her suffering at my hands? We can ensure her safety with guards at her beach. Perhaps a maid servant to aid her in her tasks?" He gestured at the room. "And comfortable furnishings for herself and her child?" Loki appeared to be considering it. "An allowance to grant her peace of mind?"

Frigga cut in wearily. "Speaking to her again would ease my mind as well, but there is precious little that can be offered to her-"

"Hogun said that she lived poorly, that she seemed hungry," Thor replied.

"Indeed, her furnishings are simple and plain," Frigga said thoughtfully. "I, myself, think that some things are needed desperately. However, as she is alone on the island, no amount of gold will give her security. A maid or guards would overtax the few gifts that the island possesses."

"I will not allow my child to starve, Mother," Loki reassured her quietly.

"Yet you cannot be constantly flitting there and back," Thor pointed out. "If naught else, our enemies would find her a target for their rage―especially if she is heavy with child."

Odin grimaced, listening in. This was a good thing-allowing the brothers to work out their differences and problems together rather than being at odds. Yet, anyone who spoke of Thor might be in true danger. Especially if her magic came unbidden and thus uncontrolled. Then, that might be questioned, again putting Thor in the public glare and scrutiny. He approached both brothers thoughtfully. "I will visit this island and this...lady-" Frigga cleared her throat noisily and he shot a look over his shoulder at her. "_-____with Frigga_to see to this complaint." Thor and Loki both looked at each other and tried not to chuckle. Odin, to his credit, did not look ruffled in the slightest and continued on speaking. "Thor, Loki-these are very serious charges. A king cannot rule if his rule is questioned." He sighed deeply. "Loki...I only hope that..." He looked lost for a moment, confounded by the night's events. "I hope that she is worthy of you."

"Some would undoubtedly say she is too good for me," Loki remarked wryly.

Frigga and Odin chuckled. In a hushed voice (although Frigga could undoubtedly hear him), the Allfather added with a twinkle in his eye, "A good woman is the making of a good man from a knave and a truly great man from a good man." He clapped them both on the shoulders. "And that is what I hope for you both."

"Thank you, Father,"Thor said with a grin.

"Thank you, Father," Loki nodded.

"Come, Loki," Odin said, gently pulling his younger son back into the salon. "Tell me of her. What is she like?"

Thor stopped for a moment. His younger brother suddenly seemed to bloom like a late bud suddenly brought into full sun after a lifetime of shade. It was...good to see that Odin was comfortable speaking to his younger brother. Loki actually smiled, describing her apparently terrible attempts to make bread in the cave with a wicked twist of humor. Hopefully this woman—this Sigyn—would bring Loki out of the shadows a bit, let him see the better things in life rather than the sardonic, the trickery and the sly. With a rare grace, he quietly left them to speak and closed the door behind him.

It was late―very late for even Loki's normal night watches―before his parents allowed him to depart. Odin was curious about her―who her father was, who was she, what sorts of things did she show a talent for―but seemed at peace with the idea that he was shortly to become a grandfather. Frigga produced copious lists and questions of things to bring her or provide for her and her child. If he was not careful, there would be a full regatta to bring her all of the little things she might need, along with the usual buzzing of trumpets and overdone fanfare. It honestly seemed...strange to have them so openly accepting of him. Usually there was a slight air of distrust or uncertainty. Even when he truly might have had the best intentions.

Of course, he hadn't intended for her to fall pregnant in the first place. He had gone on his merry way without thinking about it—despite Frigga's careful lessons and warnings. And now, all of a sudden, it seemed that all manner of things were possible. Whether or not Thor had truly meant to name his first born the heir, Frigga was plainly taken with Sigyn and Odin might well be on the way. He was suddenly the object of their attention and had even been asked to join them in their usual late night cup of wine before bed-a ritual Thor had occasionally been asked to be a part of but that, of late, they had not included him in on. Odin was even trying to consider how best to provide a place and occupation for the little child and for Sigyn as well-something that he had felt lacked consideration for himself.

All this was pivoting on Sigyn accepting their enthusiastic generosity. Loki's mouth twisted as he reflected. He had truly not attempted to get her to move past her injury-to heal in her mind. He had, if he were honest with himself, relishing her unquestioning acceptance and not worried about how she would be viewed by his family. He whispered an foul phrase beneath his breath. Was it not the first rule of warfare and wizardry alike to consider the consequences ___before _making a move?

Loki wearily opened the door to his chamber, relishing the thought of nothing more complicated than staggering to his bed and sleeping until noon. The chamber was dark as he preferred it. The emerald green drapes pulled over the windows, the fire banked low with warm coals and only three candles lit. Yet instead of restful silence, a snore rumbled through his sitting room. Cocking his head to one side, he flicked his wrist and the flames in the fireplace rose up brightly.

Thor was slouched in his particularly favorite reading chair with his bare feet perched on a nearby table and his boots slouching beside him, snoring away. Loki forced the fire to flare up again, bathing them both in hot light. With a grumpy snort, Thor's eyes cracked and he moaned and stretched. "I feared that I would be in my dotage before I again saw you."

"Hardly," Loki replied. "It seems to me that this is an early night for you since you seem to be regularly up feasting."

Thor stood stiffly. "Brother," he smiled. "It was good to see what happened this night. You have made Mother and Father very happy." He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "And have saved me in the bargain." Loki cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Father would not be happy if he were to find out that I intended to adopt this child as my heir and I almost blurted it out in front of them. Thank you."

Loki took Thor's hand and shook it with a slightly bewildered expression. "It was...nothing."

"Hardly nothing," Thor said, looking around for his boots. Pulling them on, he stood again, trying to not look exhausted. "At any rate, I wanted to give you my own congratulations and my own promise that your children will not want while I live."

Loki smiled, but did not mention that Frigga and Odin had both said the same thing.

"You must be tired," Thor added, looking at the dark circles under Loki's emerald eyes. "I have no doubt that Mother kept you up with a hundred questions and a thousand little details."

"Something like that," Loki murmured. It seemed more like thousands of questions and no end to the details.

"I have no doubt of that," Thor chuckled. "I had no idea that children were so...involved." He ruffled his golden hair again and cocked an eye towards his brother. "I would guess that they are...interested in a wedding as well as a birthing?"

"That seems to be the way things are going," Loki replied restlessly.

"Then, I ask one small favor of you, Loki," Thor looked at him steadily. "Please...whatever you can do to plead my case that she and I may be at peace." Thor glanced away restlessly. "I do not want my new sister and I to be endlessly embattled."

"I do not know what I can do... She is hard set against you."

"I will ensure her safety and her well being. I will provide anything she lacks." Thor looked at Loki again. "But I do not want to be her enemy."

"What are you proposing?" Loki asked with a little smile.

"Only to speak with her. When the time is right, I know that you will speak the truth to her." He shot a telling glance. "I cannot say that it would be easy, but if she is worthy of you, then she will at least hear it out." Thor stretched meaningfully. "I must be abed. It is far too late for me."

"As you say, brother," Loki nodded. "Sleep well."

"Sleep well, my brother."

However, it was yet another hour before Loki could find rest. He needed to speak to her―he knew that. Preferably before his parents came around insisting on meeting her and starting the staggering amount of fuss that apparently she would require.

The truth...would the truth set her free?

The sun was well on its course before Loki awoke to the lightest of tapping on his door. He lurched awake from his lovely dream of Sigyn in the throne room wearing naught but a smile and lurched towards the door. His usual greatcoat―while warm―was hardly comfortable to sleep in. Nor were his boots particularly comforting.

He grunted, biting back a fearsome growl as sunlight spilled inside from the doorway. Frigga stood with one of her maids and an immense basket looped over one arm. The maid flushed and spared him a glance before darting away.

"My son," Frigga smiled warmly. "It is past noon and I had expected you to be up and about again." She arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps you should return to your lady if you no longer rest well here?" She smiled impishly and pretended to examine him thoroughly, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully. "I think that perhaps she will do you good..."

"Mother," he grimaced. He reluctantly stood straighter, seeing that he would get no further rest without satisfying her. "How may I be of service?"

"I wished to go to market with you and then I will send you back to your island." She smiled deliberately and firmly. "Odin agrees that it would do you both good to have some time alone and I do not see any harm in sending gifts to her, do you?"

There was, as every son knows, only one answer to such a question when one's mother asks it in that particular tone. "Of course not, Mother," Loki said dutifully. "Allow me a few minutes to gather myself together and I will accompany you."

Frigga nodded and smiled as the maid came back with an even larger basket. Loki simply closed the door and sagged against it. His head pounded and felt nigh as thick as a shield. He rolled his eyes―apparently nothing would do but sending him off loaded with a generous supply of gifts. He grinned and then chuckled wryly. Apparently his parents were eager to win her over.

It was a credible ten minutes later when he appeared, neatly groomed and in clean clothes. Frigga smiled and dismissed the maids that hovered around her with petitions, invitations and such. "Loki," she smiled, holding her arms open wide. "You look wonderful." She dropped a quick peck on his cheek. "And isn't today a grand day?"

"Of course, Mother," he replied softly. "I see that we are set for the market."

"Indeed," Frigga grinned as Loki offered her his arm. "I haven't anticipated a trip to the markets so much in years."

With stoic patience, Loki lead her through the markets. Frigga was obviously in her element―choosing soft cloth and fine thread for dresses; two sets of hair combs―one with gilded roses carved in it and one of dark ebony with tiny flecks of iridescent green faceted glass; a bottle of perfume that smelled of lavender and roses; soft leather boots with elaborate tooling. There was a side trip for sundries as well―to the baker for some soft yeast rolls as well as two loaves of bread, another package of golden raisins, a package of dates, a bottle of clear wine and a bottle of a rich red wine, a jar of honey, another jar of olives, a crock of butter, a few more lemons, and a wide slice of sharp cheese.

Then Frigga grinned at him and pulled him into what appeared to be a dead end with a single door in it. Loki smiled in curiosity as Frigga seemed to grow as excited as a school girl, leading him down the alley. There was the Alley's End Candy Shoppe―where Frigga swept in and purchased honey candy, horehound lozenges, mint candies, salt water taffies in a multitude of colors and flavors, and her favorite types of hard fruit candies. Loki grinned back at her―remembering when he and Thor would run from the palace to come to Alley's End and spend every coin they could get their hands on. With an almost merry heart, he purchased some chocolates and―as an afterthought―some chocolate dipped fruits. The sweets were wrapped in particolored papers and dumped into the basket.

Loki dipped into his package of chocolates, relishing the bitter dark flavor that was his favorite. Absently nibbling on it, he followed Frigga once more. She stopped briefly to select a handful of ribbons―mostly greens and blues but some few that were golden as well. Then again she pulled him to another shop.

Loki was dumbfounded as he stepped into the lush building. It rivaled the palace with great columns that were covered in ivy vines, lush fountains and cushioned seats. Frigga was welcomed warmly and a maid came in with crystal flutes of straw colored wine and a platter of tiny sandwiches, slices of fruits, and other nibbles. The women darted glances at him so nervously he was tempted to shout "Boo" to see them scatter. Frigga caught his eye and he attempted to settle in a chair with only a mischievous smile.

An older looking woman came forward with a tray loaded with tiny glass bottles and a stack of linen squares. "Your Majesty," she said, bowing. "I am Mavis. I am honored that you have come here. How may we help you?"

"I am looking to buy some lotions, soaps and oils."

The woman glanced speculatively over Frigga's skin and said doubtfully, "We can recommend some of our mixtures..."

Frigga smiled and let out a small chuckle. "It is a gift for another lady, who I hope to entice here soon."

"Ahh," the other woman nodded solemnly as though Frigga had spoken the answer to some perplexing question. "She is a shy flower?" Mavis nodded to herself again, apparently not actually seeking an answer. "Her skin...is it dry or rough? Perhaps-"

"Her skin is soft and fair," Loki retorted hotly.

A nearby maid tittered and Mavis frowned at her. The maid curtsied and dashed out the door. She nodded to Loki and said evenly. "Of course, Highness. It was thoughtless of me to even ask." For all of her words, she seemed dryly amused at his outburst, rather than shaken. She beckoned to a passing maid who brought in an immense basket. "For soft skin we use this mix of beeswax and cocoa butter or Shea butter along with sesame oil. For dryer skin―perhaps skin exposed to the elements or if she were expecting a child-we would add jojoba and aloe-"

"Perhaps the jojoba would be added," Loki amended.

"As you wish, Highness," Mavis replied. Apparently touchy husbands and lovers were commonplace here, as she did not so much as turn a hair. The maid brought forth pots sealed with cork and Mavis took her time selecting one before presenting her tray to him. "If you would care to select a scent that suits her?" Loki chose a thin glass vial filled with a green oil and lifted the stopper. "Bergamot, Highness?"

Loki frowned slightly. "I do not think the smell of tea would suit her." He finally settled on a custom blend of rose, lavender and night blooming jasmine. Nonplussed, Mavis blended the lotion and then a pot of soft soap.

"Will the lady want cosmetics?" Mavis offered as yet another maid refilled their drinks.

Frigga blanched. "I'd rather not―not until she is here." She paused for a sip. "But perhaps one of your excellent hair blends?" Mavis nodded and swiftly bottles of hair soap were blended and added to the basket. Frigga did finally choose a lip balm with a rosy tint, as well as a perfumed sample of a mix of sugar, milk, honey and jojoba. After some debate a lotion for the face was blended―mixing yarrow, jojoba, Shea butter, cocoa butter and beeswax.

"A massage oil, as well?" Mavis offered blandly. Loki's ears perked up and he grinned roguishly. Mavis's carefully blank expression did not waver, although her eyes twinkled. Swiftly a tray of oil samples was presented. Loki touched each oil in turn and Mavis finally mixed a smooth blend of sesame oil, jojoba and coconut oil. With relish, Loki directed her to blend two vials―one of with essence of vanilla and one scented with essence of dragon's blood. On impulse, he added a thick bar of soap scented with vanilla.

Loki was forced to fetch another pair basket by the time they were done at the markets. Frigga had been more than generous―adding two bracelets, a simple gold necklace, two pairs of soft socks, a pair of gloves and some house slippers while he had gone to fetch the baskets. While he attempted to divide the gifts into those baskets, she wandered off and appeared with a spice chest, a sturdy broom, a length of fine netting such as might be used to ward off insects and two sets of fine sheets. Rolling his eyes, Loki packed as much as he could while trying to keep his eye on his mother. Of course, she ducked in and out of the shops quickly, amassing purchases as a sweaty horse might amass flies.

"Mother―I don't know where we will put all this!" he finally said in exasperation as she appeared with two lanterns and a stack of candles. She arched a finely drawn eyebrow and said nothing, only smiled.

Loki's blood ran cold for a moment, staring at the same serene smile that he had given out often enough when he was plotting something. "I have but a single errand," he finally said with a cocky grin. "Can we avoid purchasing the ___entire _market before I return?"

She smirked at him. "Of course, my son," she replied. Dimples appeared on her cheeks as she attempted to hide her smile. "I will arrange to have these carried to your boat and wait for you there."

Loki rolled his eyes. If his mother wasn't curbed soon, his craft would not leave the harbor. He ducked into a shop where the seamstress was known for her...enticing garments as well as her discretion. Choosing some night frills―frothy bits of ready made muslin gowns and robes with bunches of lace at the hems―he lost sight of Frigga. His purchases were carefully wrapped before him and then handed directly to him.

With a sigh, Loki saw that both the baskets and Frigga were gone and headed to the harbor. Most who saw him simply drifted out of his way―suddenly interested in a shop's wares or in a window display or a fountain's beauty. One or two shopkeepers nodded in his direction. One old crone―the keeper of the spice and herb shop that he frequented to purchase his more common spell components―curtsied with a smile.

As he predicted, Frigga stood looking at his craft. The two baskets he had hauled through all of the Asgard markets sat in the middle―along with the spice chest and a picnic basket. The little seat with the cubby beneath it suspiciously would not close fully. He had enough room to board the heavily laden craft, but not much else.

Frigga smiled from the dock. Her eyes sparkled wisely and shone with approval. "Go swiftly, my son," she said. "Best of wishes and good luck." She pulled her cloak closer to herself. "We will not expect you back for a few days."

Loki smiled and waved at her and forced the little craft forward. It was fortunate that he had not been built like Thor―the craft inched forward, low in the water, before finally rising up. By the time that he was aloft, the folk of Asgard were already crowding around Frigga who watched him. Finally she waved again and then turned to address the crowd.

It was evening before Loki set down on the beach. Tying the craft, he hauled the stuff to the beach. Without much hope of being heard, he called out, "Sigyn―come to the beach!"

A shuffling was heard and Loki saw Hogun, wrapped in a heavy cloak, appear. Hogun's bland face gave no sign, but he silently handed Loki a letter sealed with wax. "Thor sent me here," he said softly. "Early this morning Jotun craft were spotted in the western sea and Thor posted me to guard the lady."

Loki took the folded paper and examined the seals. One was Odin's seal and one was Thor's. Breaking the seals, he saw a brief sketch of the area, along with where the Jotun craft had been spotted.

"The Jotun?"

"They retreated," Hogun said shortly. "As soon as they saw us." He glanced up the cliff side. "The lady had not yet risen when they retreated. Since then she has come and tended her garden and her animals and then in the afternoon she sat in the meadow and sipped a hot drink. About an hour ago she went back into the house."

"And how did you fare?" Loki asked silkily.

"I had enough supplies to stay the day," Hogun shrugged. "So I just watched."

"I see," Loki said. It was worrisome that the Jotun were suddenly so interested in this area. Perhaps he should journey to Jotenheim to see what they were about. Finally, he remembered his manners. "My thanks for keeping a watch over her."

Hogun cleared his throat uncomfortably. "She seems to be a good woman," he finally replied. "Thor will send a craft here soon and I will stay on the beach until then." With that, Hogun bowed stiffly and scooted around him to go sit cross legged on the beach.

Loki folded the papers and stuffed them in his pocket. With a grunt, he hauled the two loaded baskets up to the top of the mountain. Knocking on the door, he sighed.

Sigyn opened the door a crack. "Locca?"

"Indeed," he muttered dryly. "Now―let me in before I drop my load."

She squeaked and opened the door wide. "Locca, darling... What is all of this?"

"Mother," he sighed crossly. "She took me to task for not providing for you properly and then made me do penance by taking me shopping."

"Oh," Sigyn said softly. She bit her bottom lip and drug in one of the baskets. "She is...generous."

"We will sort them out later," he said. "I still have things to bring up from the shore."

The spice chest―filled with spices―was put in the kitchen area, along with the picnic basket. The basket was unloaded piecemeal. In addition to the foodstuffs, Frigga had added in a new pot, two large bowls and some assorted silverware. The sheets were carried to the bedroom and the soaps, lotions and such were carried into the bathing area. The combs and jewelry were wrapped in a square of cloth and taken to the bedroom.

As Sigyn hefted the new broom, sweeping crumbs from their snack of rolls, butter and honey, she laughed heartily. "I think that you have taken me to Valhalla, Locca. I never expected such bounty."

"Hmm," Loki muttered, setting up a camp stool. The benches he had conjured last time rested at the table, but this little stool would afford some comfort in the bedroom, and function as some slight storage. Even he couldn't deny that the little cave was looking more hospitable. The two new lanterns dangled from rope twisted around a newly formed thumb of rock close to the ceiling. Inexplicably, a tablecloth was arranged over the table―it seemed that even blind women liked such things. The packets of food were carefully arranged on the shelves, taking the place of some of the vials and bottles of herbs and spices which were now stored properly in the chest. With a grin he slid the final pin into place and tested the stool. "I'm glad that you are happy Sigyn."

Sigyn giggled again and sat breathlessly at the table. "We have been putting things away for some time―I am exhausted! And there are still more packages _and _the picnic basket." Her fingers twitched and crept to the edges of the basket. "Can we ___finally _see what's inside?"

Loki grinned wickedly. He had forbade her from transforming the cave until everything was put away. "Oh my love, we haven't seen everything yet."

"There's more?" she said with a teasing pout. "There simply isn't room!"

"Ahh...but you will like these!" he replied. He had saved the best for last. Sweeping the cloth and threads into one of the finally empty baskets, he pulled out the packages he had bought.

"First," he instructed. "Stand here." Sigyn stood in the middle of the room as directed with a silly grin on her face. "Now, disrobe." She smiled languidly and disrobed. Swiftly he pulled the muslin gown over her head, grinning as she felt along the ruffled and lacy hem at her thighs. "Tell me what you think of this..."

Sigyn gasped for air. Surely that was all that this was―air and spiderwebs! And it hid absolutely not the slightest hair on her body. "This is...must be wicked..." She barely grazed the low bodice with her fingertips. "Is this what is worn in Asgard? Surely not..."

"Not in public, my love," he grinned. He plucked up one of the paper covered packages again. "Now...let me know if you like this." Selecting a piece of chocolate, he popped it into her mouth.

"Oh my...!" she gasped, chewing the tasty morsel. "This is...heavenly." She tried to approach the table, but he crinkled the paper still in his hand and she followed the sound. "Please...another piece," she mewled.

He laughed, teasing her with another piece. Then another. Quite soon, a lick of the fingers became a languid kiss. And another kiss. Then, the muslin was discarded, along with his clothes. Afterward, they bathed each other, taking time to soap and rinse and then lavish lotion on the skin.

The picnic basket was a marvel of delicious tidbits. There was cold roasted chicken, some sort of rich sauce that tasted of honey and smoke, a salad of various vegetables with an oil and vinegar dressing, pastries filled with fruit or sweet cream, fresh sweet grapes, tiny quiches with spinach and bacon and cheese, and chocolate souffles. There was a tiny bottle of sweet orange cordial and tiny dark chocolates for dessert. Sigyn couldn't believe that she tried more than a mouthful of everything.

"Is this how you feast, Locca? Is it a celebration?" she yawned, curled against him on the bench. "I don't think that I've ever had some many delicious things!"

"Oh there are many such things...back at my home." He almost felt choked by the words. "My family often hosts feasts with many more things to try."

Sigyn sighed. "Perhaps we will pretend that we are visiting them," she yawned again sleepily. "But later. I wish to sleep as soon as I can."

"Are you ill still?" Loki thought to ask as he picked up the tidbits. He had conjured a large container that was serving as a compost bin during the immense efforts to move everything inside and dropped in the bits of salad and such that there was simply no room for. The chicken had been devoured―all that remained were bones that would be buried. The rest would be turned in with soil and bits of weeds and leaves to form new loam for the garden. "Is it keeping you up at night?"

"Not much at night," she replied, feeling for the new slippers. "But in the morning I swear I sound like an ox!"

"Never that, my dove," he smiled.

"Ugh! Just wait," she said grimly.

"As you say," he shrugged. "Perhaps rinsing your mouth with a mint mixture before bed would help...?"

She only sighed and took the tablecloth outside to shake. Draping it over one arm, she came back in and dropped it on the table. Her love was in the bedroom and, in a bloom of contentment, she transformed the cave. This time in shades of green _and___blue with silver. The new sheets were a wonder of softness and she snuggled into them, feeling him put one of the new blankets over the bed and washing her in warmth.

"When will your mother return?" she yawned. "I must thank her."

"And what about me?" Loki pouted as he shucked off his breeches and slid in beside her.

"Of course, I thank you as well," she sighed. Then she grinned slyly. "And I'll be happy to ___thank you _again if you like before we sleep?"

Loki grinned. "Insatiable minx!"

Sigyn grinned and curled against him. Then she pulled back and frowned. "My love, are you well?"

"Yes," Loki answered.

"Are you sure?" She sat up and felt down his arm. "You feel so warm!"

Loki frowned at that. His few encounters with the opposite sex had been peppered with complaints on how cool his skin felt, how cold his hands were. Reaching her, he felt no fever or complaint. "Are you sure _you _are well?" His hands drifted over her again, hesitating over her stomach.

She frowned again. "Perhaps I am simply tired." She lay again against him, a charming pleat on her brow above her scars. "I'm sure it is nothing."

Loki wrapped an arm around her. "Come, love. We must sleep." His eyes drifted closed. Some hours later, he bolted awake alone in the bed―driven by the need to hold Sigyn close to himself. She stepped into the room with a mug of cool water and he firmly guided her again to the little nest of sheets and pillows.

"What is wrong, Locca?"

"I didn't know where you were," he whispered softly against her hair.

"I stepped out to get a drink of water," she replied softly. "Did you know you snore?"

"So do you, love," he smiled. "Delicate little snores like a cat."

She giggled. "I wake myself up at times snorting like a pig now."

Loki stretched out beside her, feeling her warm against him. "My love―if you are awake, I would like to talk?"

Sigyn stirred a little beside him. "What about?"

"I...I must tell you the truth," he said. "I dreamed that I did not and I lost you forever. That I was falling far from you as though I had fallen off a bridge and could not return. And that it was because I did not speak the truth."

"The truth?" she echoed, going rigid. "Why...?" She sat up in the bed, pulling a sheet around her. "I mean...we are fine as we are... I-!"

"Do you remember the pretend?" he pressed. "When you pretended to go to Loki?"

"I...yes, I remember," she nodded slowly. "But it was a foolish thing. I don't even know why I brought it up." Her hands knotted in the sheet around her and she grew pale. "It was simply a joke..."

He lounged on one elbow, studying her. She shivered and almost seemed to be sweating, but was flushed too. "But what if it wasn't?" One hand went slowly to her mouth and she swallowed heavily. "What if it wasn't pretend?"

Sigyn's mouth went dry. "Damn it," she cursed. "It was just a bad dream. I'll never leave you―never even leave this island." She sniffed. "Please―what we have here is good." In a smaller, tiny voice, she added. "Please...don't do this..."

Loki sat up. Hesitantly, he took her hand. "Please, love. Hear me out."

"I ___know_," she interrupted. "I know that you are not a merchant trader. I know that likely your name is not 'Locca'." She swallowed again, forcing her parched throat to work. "I've known for a while."

"And?"

"And it wasn't important. You would come and we would be happy. And now I will have a child to keep up with and be happy with," she sobbed shrilly. "I didn't think it was important."

"Pledge to me," Loki rose to his knees on the bed. "Pledge that you will always be mine." His voice felt on the edge of cracking. "Always and forever."

"I do," she whispered, leaning against him. "I always will be yours." She wrapped her arms around his lean chest. "It ___doesn't matter _who you are or why... I will be yours."

Loki reached for his breeches and pulled a small ring out of the pocket. It was simply done―a delicate weaving of vines decorating it and one small diamond shaped ruby in the center like a tight rosebud. He had seen it in Alfheim what felt like a lifetime ago and adored the simple lines and clear gem. He pulled her hand before him. "Pledge that you will love me alone forever," he demanded.

She pushed his hands away. "No, love," she said, feeling him stiffen in surprise. "I need no gifts, no jewels or gold. I need your love in return." She stilled, feeling his hands again seize her left hand. "I will always and forever love you and only you."

Loki felt triumph pummel through him as she finally accepted the ring on her finger. "The words... My love, _I need the words._"

Sigyn nodded, sensing his urgency and repeating the wedding words she had memorized in her daydreams as a child. "I pledge to you. I pledge that I will forsake all others, love all that you love and curse all that you curse. I pledge that your heart, your happiness and your life will forever be in my mind, my heart and the fountain of my happiness. I pledge my heart and soul to you." She sighed, feeling a sense of finality as she leaned against him. "I pledge this in the name of the Allfather, for now and forever."

He pressed a second, heavier ring into her hand and she fumbled with it, sliding it onto his finger. He sighed and repeated the words to her. "I pledge to you. I pledge that I will forsake all others, love all that you love and curse all that you curse. I pledge that your heart, your happiness and your life will forever be in my mind, my heart and the fountain of my happiness. I pledge my heart and soul to you." His voice almost gave out. "I pledge this in the name of the Allfather, for now and forever."

His kiss was soft against her lips-almost questioning and seeking, as though he were unsure of his welcome. She smiled softly, uncertainly, and kissed him. Then she raised his hand to her lips and kissed his ring―the traditional kiss of fidelity. He raised her ring to his lips and kissed it as well, then kissed her palm which was the kiss of protection.

"My love," he sighed. "I am yours forever. And whatever the cost, I must tell you...who I am..."

"Locca," she whimpered. "Please...we are pledged to each other. Even if you didn't mean it, allow me to pretend this night..."

"Pretend that I am 'Locca' and a merchant trader?" he asked softly. "Such untruth...should not live here-" He kissed her lips again. "My princess."

"Princess?" she gasped against his mouth. Desperately, she pressed against him as though she hoped to stop the words coming out.

He took her shoulders and pulled her away just enough to allow himself to breathe. "I am Loki."

Sigyn's head swam dizzily. For a moment, she doubted her senses. "Is this another...pretend?"

"My love," he said, holding her close. For a moment, his eyes closed to hide her from his sight. "I... I wish that I could be Locca, and a trader. But I cannot. I am only Loki of Asgard." He swallowed heavily, an unfamiliar stinging behind his lids.

"I...I am to believe that you are Prince Loki of Asgard?" she asked softly. "I am to believe that..." She curled up away from him. "I...-"

"My love," he said, crawling through the swamp of sheets to her. She held her hand up behind her, and he stopped. "I-"

"I thought that...perhaps you were already pledged or already married. I thought that perhaps your father ___was _a diplomat or head of the merchant's guild and thus you were often gone and had frequent business in Asgard. I was content with that!" She felt the bed shift and held out her hand again. "I was grateful for the little time that you gave me and was...d-d-determined to not ask for more. I had...thought that when my child was born, that you might take it to...to the mainland and find a family there who would see that the child was schooled properly. That perhaps you did not want the child and thus were so angry." She swallowed her sob. "I...I wanted to do you honor―that I would hide in the sh-shadows of your life so that no one need know of my existence and I would bring no shame to you. No one need know more than you were occasionally gone." She felt his hands curl around her shoulders. "I wanted to please you―to show you that, in spite of my magic and in spite of my ill-breeding and ___in spite of my scars _that I loved you." She bowed her head into her hands. "I only wanted to be worthy of your love in return. And now you ask me to believe that you are not a merchant and a common man―that you are a ___prince__. _And not just any prince, but Prince Loki of Asgard!"

He swallowed heavily. As always, his mother was right―honesty would have been best. No matter his intentions, honesty would have prevented this. He supposed he should be thankful that her magic was not answering her hurting call.

"You want me to...to do what?" she continued angrily, her fists balling up the sheets. "To go with you and be a princess? To be nauseated by endless praises to ___Thor?_To shame you because of my scars?" She gestured angrily to her face. "To be a worthless layabout around the palace whose only contribution is to have a child?" She finally laid her hand on his on her shoulder and spoke so quietly that he could scarce hear her even in the silence of the cave. "You...d-d-deserve so much more..."

Loki felt a clenching in his throat. Only Sigyn would say that he deserved more. Finally, he whispered in a raspy voice. "And what would you deem worthy of me? Some horse-faced, skinny-arsed princess who trembles at the thought of magic and who undoubtedly had a life that ___she _wanted instead of being married to me to seal some bargain between the realms? Is that the loveless fate you would condemn me to?"

"Loveless?" she queried as though she had not considered it.

He laughed shortly, and it was not a laugh of mirth but of the opposite. "Indeed. You would have me wed this princess―and the Allfather would not be content with less, mind you. And you would have me pledge to her as I have pledged to you instead? You would have me torn between her realm and this one, never to know a moment of peace or privacy and to never know you again?" He shuddered and his voice choked. "Is this the punishment that I am to live?"

Sigyn let out an eerie cry and wrapped her arms around him. "No," she sobbed openly. "No, my love. I will be here always. No matter what you and your..._p-p_-_princess _do―I will always love you." She brought his hand to her belly. "And my child will always know that he was conceived in love."

He could only hold her then, wrapping them both in the sheets. Rocking back and forth as a child is rocked by a loving father, he held her until at last she again slept next to him. It was over an hour later before he could stop staring into the imaginary, conjured lights and close his eyes. But somehow, it felt as though instead of avoiding his terrifying vision of losing her, he had only set his feet upon that road.

The next morning―rather, late the next day―they rose and silently tended the garden and the animals. Every so often the air would start to snap and crackle as Sigyn grew tense and then would eventually sort some knot in her thoughts and then relax again. With two of them, the chores were quickly accomplished and quite soon it was time to relax again.

It was lunchtime and they tucked into eggs scrambled with butter and toast, along with some strips of salted and smoked venison. Sigyn was grateful for the milk to soothe her throat and drank it quickly. It wasn't until the last drop filled her cup that she even noticed how swiftly she drank it.

"I'm so sorry, Locca-I mean, ___Loki__,_" she blushed. "I didn't mean to deprive you."

"Drink―apparently the baby likes it," he smiled a hair stiffly.

"Indeed," she smiled softly in return. "I think he will be quite active."

"We seem certain it is a boy," Loki noted, grateful for the neutral topic of conversation. While his parents had drilled into him the art of meaningless small talk, he usually despised talking for the sake of filling the silence. "What if it is a girl?"

Sigyn giggled and reached for his hand. "As if you would have anything else but a strong boy!"

"Nonsense," he protested lightly. "I would love a girl with your spirit just as much."

"She would spoil you rotten," Sigyn sighed. "Always trying to make her father proud."

Loki smiled and then looked at her. Somehow, she seemed...serene. "Am I forgiven, then?"

"Forgiven?"

"Forgiven for not being Locca the merchant? Forgiven," he sighed. "for being only a prince?"

She sighed and took his hands in her own. "There is nothing to forgive... I was...overcome." She frowned and then asked sharply. "Unless you _are _here to bargain for my powers..."

Loki laughed. "My love, I trust only _you _with your powers. Someone else might make us all purple chickens!"

Sigyn laughed at that. "Laying green eggs!" She pressed one hand to her burning cheeks. "My love―there is nothing to forgive. I have pledged to you. And if this means nothing to the mainland―if you must marry your horse-faced princess to satisfy your duty, then you must. I will always be here loving you."

Loki swallowed heavily. "I...I don't know what to say."

Sigyn clasped his hands harder. "Was that truly the Queen? Truly your mother?"

"Truly."

"Oh. My..." She flushed dark red―even her ears and down her chest. "And...the first time that she saw me...! I was...so sure that you were alone as always and-"

"She was charmed, my love," Loki chimed in, amused at her turning almost purple.

"I was not dressed!" she snapped. She grumbled softly. "At least...not for _company!" _She cocked her head and, had she been able to see, then she would have been shooting him some kind of grumpy look. "At least you could have warned me..."

"We might need that bell after all," Loki offered.

"A doorbell?" she giggled. "How imaginative." She took another swallow of milk. "Is Mother going to be here often?" She flushed dark red, catching herself. "I mean... Her...Majesty?" She pressed her hands to her cheeks. "I'm not sure what I mean..."

Loki grimaced. "I think that in public, the 'Majesty' is correct. However, in private, I believe that she would like it if you simply went with 'Mother'." He let out a soft laugh. "However, we might want to explain about the purple chicken."

"Really? It is such an embarrassing story. I mean―my father had taken strong spirits and ...then the pecking and all." She swallowed. "And I wouldn't know how to do it again and why would we want purple chickens anyway?"

"My love, you're babbling," he teased, dropping a quick peck on her cheek. "Why so nervous?" He shrugged meaningfully. "I only mention it because Odin would be forever in your debt if you did explain it."

Sigyn's cheeks went scarlet and then utterly pale. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Loki grinned a lopsided grin at her. "It seems that to celebrate her birth the Allfather brought her a large gifting box with the most elaborate wide brimmed straw hat. Along the brim was a beautiful purple satin ribbon and a gold medallion surrounded by what appeared to be-"

"Oh no!"

"-rust brown chicken feathers!" Loki cackled in glee. "And the Allfather had to explain mightily that they had been, in fact, purple when he had purchased the hat. He tried to explain that they were purple to match her eyes." He turned a dramatically sorrowful face to her. "And―can you believe it?-_someone_ actually blamed me for the change?" Odin had only glared in his direction. _Thor _had whispered to his friends his own suspicions. It was Sif who cornered him that evening and demanded he admit the fault.

"Oh, NO!" Sigyn moaned with a laugh. "It wasn't your fault!" She almost shook, torn between laughter and teasing and desperate pride and something else he could not name. "Surely no one blamed you? After all, who has ever heard of purple feathers anyway? And it's not like you are the sole sorcerer in all the nine realms! I must speak of this―at least to Mother! She must understand it wasn't your fault!"

Loki laughed. "It's all right, my love. She thought much like you that purple feathers were something of an unnatural thing. Besides, I was wrapped up in negotiations elsewhere and had plenty of people to say that I was no where near the box or the hat before she saw it." A fact that made Sif crimson with fury. Thor rolled his eyes and didn't believe that he had sat through the entire six hours of negotiations. Odin only nodded with a troubled frown and dropped the subject.

"I would be in a tremendous amount of trouble, wouldn't I?" she said softly. "I mean―at least I should be able to control my temper." She groaned. "Please tell me that no one tried to give you green eggs too!"

He shrugged. "Not that I know of." He smiled wickedly. "However, I would like to know if any others appear. They could be very useful..."

Sigyn laughed―deep and low and sultry. "I suppose that I _must _claim the deed―if only to clear your name."

Loki laughed as well. The incident was tiny―insignificant. However, seeing Odin's shock at the simplicity of the explanation―that someone else had honestly done it, however unwittingly―would be priceless. Not to mention having Sif eat her own fury at blaming him.

Sigyn squeezed his hands. "Why do I suddenly think that you may thinking more of mischief than me?"

The next two days passed quietly and quickly. Sigyn and Loki learned again about each other―this time without pretense or tricks. At least, no _overt _pretense or tricks―Loki was still stubborn about ___summoning _things―including the odd pieces of furniture such as a chest, a bedside table and lamp. Not to mention the delightful collection of decadent froth that he deemed appropriate for her to wear―enticing bits of fluff and lace that invariably ended up on the floor within moments.

Sigyn still preferred the simple and plain, making the dresses she needed rather than allowing him to summon something for her. (There would be time enough for _proper _dresses and such if Mother came back.) She still relished the time spent in the garden―it gave her time to think―and spending time with the animals. The garden was providing them with more vegetables and that fall there would be nuts and apples aplenty. It was refreshing to still be allowed the simple and plain―to feel connected still to the land and the seasons. Granted, the little cave was more comfortable now, but still―it was the simple things that gave her the most pleasure.

Sewing was difficult, though. Particularly if she was trying to do the tight, even stitches as she sewed a seam. Sigyn drug the needle along the edge of the fabric―feeling it rise and drip six times in the woven threads before setting the next stitch.

"You know," Loki said finally. "It amazes me that you can sew at all!" He had been reading some book―some part of her was dying to know what―and finally abandoned it. "How on earth do you do it?"

She only smiled and began counting again. "The needle counts the threads. It's not exact and heaven help me if the thread tangles, but it is close enough for the simple things that I need done. And―the fabric is..." She fumbled for the right word. "Suitable for me."

"Suitable?" he grinned, arching a devilish eyebrow. "Suitable for a princess? You should be in silk in the summer and velvet or quilted satin in the winter. Perhaps with fur cuffs and a fur muff to keep your hands warm."

"Heavens!" she giggled. "I'd never be able to sew satin or silk―the weave is so small I'd be hopeless." She waggled the needle at him. "And you are the only audience that I wish to see me in silk." She shrugged. "At least―the silk that I've got anyway."

Loki was about to reply when there was a firm knock on the door. Suddenly Sigyn froze, her mouth hanging open in shock. His throat went dry for a moment as he considered who might be knocking. "Stay here," he murmured. Sliding his hidden dagger slightly out of its sheath, he crept to the door. The knock sounded again and he gingerly swung open the door.

Frigga and Hogun stood on the other side. Hogun was as dour as ever, glancing around the rocks and pathways. Frigga was all smiles and carrying yet another basket of goods.

"Mother," he greeted warily. He had anticipated at least another day before duty called him back again. "How nice to see you..."

"Mother?" Sigyn called from the cave. Rising unsteadily, she padded to the door. "Is it really you?"

"My dear Sigyn," Frigga sighed. "How lovely to see you. And how marvelous you look!" She leaned past Loki and dropped a quick kiss of greeting on Sigyn's forehead.

"The child is agreeing with me at last," Sigyn nodded. "But...I..." She turned slightly towards Loki in confusion. "What brings you here?"

"You, of course," Frigga smiled. "May I come in?"

Loki rolled his eyes and nodded, letting Frigga sweep past him. "I suppose that you will want to come in as well," he grunted to Hogun. Hogun grunted back and only nodded. "Very well."

"Darling," Sigyn chimed in as Frigga led her to the benches to sit. "Is someone else there?"

"Hogun," Loki answered.

"Hogun agreed to accompany me to ensure that I was safe," Frigga quickly excused.

Sigyn looked confused for a moment. "I hadn't realized. Of course, come in." She pulled away from Frigga and pulled out two cups and filled them with wine. Setting them on the table, she tried to consider what she had to eat that would befit her company.

"Oh my dear," Frigga innocently said as Sigyn turned towards her little kitchen. "Don't worry about us. We ate before we left."

Sigyn only nodded and moved towards Loki. From behind her, Loki wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. Smiling, she leaned against him, hoping that she wasn't being too forward. Or too stiff. Or too relaxed. Or too...anything. By the Norns, but all this was complicated.

Loki spoke first. "What brings you here, Mother? No ill tidings, I hope."

Frigga flushed. "No...nothing ill. I simply wished to see how Sigyn was doing. How the baby was faring..."

"We are well," Sigyn sighed. "I am still ill in the mornings, but it seems to be getting better." She nodded to the cave. "As you can see, we have been very comfortable with everything in place."

"Ahh...yes," Frigga said. Even Hogun nodded in what appeared to be approval. "It _does _seem that things are more comfortable." She put the basket on the table. "I brought some lunch for us, along with some fabric for blankets and such."

Sigyn smiled and whispered to Loki. Loki laughed softly and whispered back. Of course, knowing that Hogun disliked whispers that he was not part of ___was _part of the fun. "We would be honored to have you for lunch, Mother," Loki nodded. "Sigyn has invited Hogun as well, if he wishes."

"I am...honored," Hogun said.

"Well, then, let's go through the fabrics, and then we can eat," Frigga decided. "Tell me, do you have any preferences?"

Loki smiled in his most diplomatic way―the smile that could touch his lips still after hours of discussion that he really wanted no part of. "Sigyn―what do you think?"

Sigyn squeezed his hand. "I was thinking green―perhaps vines and trees and leaves? My father told me once of seeing the cloth of Alfheim and how it was embroidered with the most amazing trees and vines and flowers. He said that they were so cleverly done that looking at them you expected to see the leaves fall and the flowers to have scent." She nodded to herself. "But definitely green."

"Ahh," Frigga said. She pulled out a sample. "What do you think of this?"

Sigyn felt the fabric. It was light and airy, but still had the feel of smooth, snug warmth. Her fingertips could not find the tiny weave and she frowned. "I think that I like the fabric, but I could not work it." She wriggled out an arm and gestured impatiently at her face.

Frigga's face fell. She had loved the feel of the fabric and bought it before it could be dyed. It would have been perfect for the baby. "I see," she said sadly. "I hadn't considered that." For a moment, she was silent. Then, she asked almost hopelessly, "I don't suppose that you would consider coming to the mainland to pick out what you would like...?"

Sigyn sighed. "I will have to, if Loki will allow it." She giggled and patted the round of her tummy. "He's become positively...protective of us."

Loki chuckled a little at the shock on Frigga's face as she registered what was said. He would laugh harder later, but one did not look at the Queen and burst out laughter. Even if she did resemble a gutted fish with her mouth hanging open in shock. Only Hogun's stone faced expression did not change. "Mother? Is something wrong?"

"I...," she began. "I had not expected that... Well, that is, I had not expected this turn of events." She smiled again. "I am very glad that it's all in the open, though."

"We are at peace," Loki replied neutrally.

Sigyn smiled and sighed a little wistfully. "I suppose that I had better get used to the idea that I will eventually be coming to the mainland."

"Indeed," Frigga said, examining the glint of the rings. "We will want...a ___proper _wedding and welcome into the family. Odin is anxious to meet you."

Sigyn's stomach flipped at that. It was one thing to meet Frigga who apparently wanted only to mother everyone. But Odin the Allfather? And what if he was angry about the princess he wanted an alliance with? "Is he? I-I mean..." Drat! Stammering was hardly likely to make a good impression.

Frigga tried to contain her glee. She felt positively triumphant that Sigyn was willing to even consider coming to the mainland. And for Loki to have been honest with her had been beyond her wildest dreams. "We are most anxious to welcome you to the family," she said softly. "Of course, we all understand that...you will want some privacy and time to adjust..."

"Th-th-th-Thor, you mean," Sigyn said with a shiver. She huddled closer to Loki. "I know that our paths will cross." She held a hand protectively over her stomach. "It won't be easy, but I know that we must make our peace for Loki's sake."

Loki felt his heart swell with pride, knowing what it cost her to give up her anger and fury and to swallow her pain. Just to be with him. Granted, even now her magic was gathering, crackling a little as she considered the very thought of Thor. (Hopefully Thor wasn't hiding outside although he _had _wanted to see him land on his backside at the hands of Sigyn.) "My love," he whispered. "Purple feathers."

Sigyn burst into sudden laughter and her magic dissipated.

"Purple feathers?" Frigga asked.

"Nothing, Mother," Loki chimed in with a bland, innocent expression on his face.

"I see," she said with a curious look. "Well, let's discuss the next few weeks. Once Sigyn feels up to the journey, I think that we should return to the mainland. We will welcome her as your chosen lady at the docks and escort her through Asgard to the palace." She frowned. "I believe that the wedding celebration should be sooner rather than later. Before...well, before it becomes obvious..."

Sigyn only nodded slightly. "It won't be much time. But...do we really have to?"

Frigga replied, "My dear―you don't want to start gossip that Loki is ashamed of you, do you? Or you of him?"

"No!" Sigyn bit out. Loki grimaced as the lights blazed brightly for a moment. "_I _am ___honored_to have been chosen by him! I defy anyone to claim differently!" She bristled in Loki's arms. "Gah! What I wouldn't give to be able to wield a sword and properly skewer anyone who made such a claim!"

Hogun's eyes went wide, watching the tiny sparks around her. The magical lanterns had blazed and then died almost uncertainly before resuming their glow. Two or three lanterns—apparently real ones—had swung madly before dying down. He would take special care to not speak ill of Loki in her presence and noted that he would warn his friends to do the same.

Still, Loki gently led her to the bench, whispering softly in her ear and bringing her hand to feel Frigga's fabric again. They sat―him guiding her and her trusting him to guide her. It did not miss Hogun's or Frigga's notice that both of them sported rings now.

Frigga grimaced and continued to try to make conversation about being welcomed publicly, where apartments could be arranged, the nursery at the palace and other such details. They discussed the best way to handle the inevitable gossip that would arise from the child and from Sigyn's appearance―both socially and physically. There would be a demanding schedule of greetings and such―that would start after she was in the palace. She would be invited to host parties or to work with charities―perhaps the charity that offered to pay for medical care for Asgard's warriors and their families would be of interest―and called on to participate in various ceremonies. It would be better if she had an occupation of some kind―mainly to avoid being seen as some kind of money-grubbing leech―but obviously the child would keep her busy as soon as it arrived.

Sigyn's mind whirled with details. There were nine separate realms which would need to gather to witness their wedding celebration. There were dresses to be ordered, food to be arranged, flowers to consider―not to mention dancing and such. She would be tutored in languages, but would need to know basic forms of etiquette for every realm. Not to mention doing other works with Frigga and by herself. And being guarded every moment of the day! By Odin, they were wealthy beyond her ken but poor in privacy!

Hogun eventually excused himself to go fishing and came back empty handed. Sigyn smiled―unknowingly echoing Loki's self-satisfied smirk―when he claimed that all he had caught were minnows and a rather scraggly looking eel. Everyone was grateful that the basket was so heavily laden with treats from the royal kitchens. This time there were individual meat pies with tender morsels of meat, potatoes, carrots, onions and peas in a thick wine gravy, tender rolls that smelt of honey and walnuts, cheeses with pears and apples and some kind of sweet cheese filled pastry drizzled with honey.

Sigyn chuckled as Loki conjured her yet another goblet, rather than serve her the too-sweet cordial. Sipping, she sighed in relief at the sweet cow's milk. Loki only smirked as she drained the goblet. With a look of regretful surprise, she held the empty goblet in her hand. He waved his hand and again it was filled with cow's milk. "Should I conjure a cow? It might save me time and effort."

Sigyn laughed out loud and flushed. "I'm so sorry, darling. I crave milk all the time now. I swear, this will be a giant ere he leaves me." She licked her upper lip. "Although I suppose I should try to be more...genteel."

"Oh," Frigga smiled rather oddly. "I remember craving milk myself. Although I wanted it sweetened with honey, so I suppose that Loki should count himself lucky." She cocked her head and considered precious memories. "I also remember going through blueberries at a rather frightening rate too."

Sigyn shook her head with a giggle. "However, we'd be terribly crowded trying to keep a cow here. However would Nanny Goat and Gran-nanny Goat manage to stretch their legs with a great beast like that in the meadow?"

"Gran-nanny Goat?" Loki asked.

"One of the nanny goats has a longer beard and straighter horns. A little bit coarser hair too. So she is Gran-nanny Goat." She looked serious for a moment. "But how on earth will we manage to bring _them _to the mainland? They are so stuck to the meadow now."

"Lead them," Hogun offered simply.

Sigyn choked back a snort. As if anyone could lead those stubborn goats anywhere. She set the horn down on the table gently as possible. "I suppose," she said. Considering her changed circumstances, she felt a chill creep up her spine. Unexpectedly, her stomach lurched.

Standing swiftly, she muttered an excuse and stepped outside. Drawing in deep breaths, she simply stood, willing her heart to stop racing, her mind to stop whirling and her stomach to stop clenching. The fresh air helped some. Her Majesty was a great many things and apparently fond of perfume was one of them. Of course, her stomach clenched at the almost overpowering, flowery smell.

"Are you well, my love?" Loki asked after a few moments.

Sigyn shook her head and could only tremble. "I'm so cold," she said softly. Instantly, his cloak surrounded her. "I want to run fast and far and free. I want us to tell them to all go to Helheim and take their duties and protocols with them. I want to kill Thor―to strike back―and I want to run away as swiftly as possible." She leaned heavily against Loki. "I don't know what I want," she cried softly into his shirt. She hiccuped. "I want to do anything but what is expected of me."

"Well, that's _my _influence I'm afraid," Loki said straight-faced.

Sigyn giggled and snuggled deeper into the immense cloak around her. "Thank Odin I have you to keep me sane." She leaned heavily against him. "I suppose that we can seal everything up. The chickens and goats would have to be provided for somehow―perhaps an orphanage would care for the old dears. The food would have to be packed or something. We would be ready to leave in a few days."

Loki only nodded, his mouth dry.

"Can you stop me from doing any great harm?" Sigyn asked seriously.

"I―I don't know," Loki admitted softly with a flinch. "I would...try."

"Oh great," she said with no small sarcasm. "Here I am trying to remember all that I ever knew of my manners and I have a power that could seriously harm the royal family and whoever is unlucky enough to be in the general vicinity and the greatest sorcerer of Asgard doesn't know if he can stop me." She snorted. "Should make meeting the rest of your family interesting―if I don't blow out a room and get lynched, mind you." She sighed. "It would have been better if I had bargained to give you my powers." Loki only shrugged. "And why is it so cold? I am wrapped in my warmest dress―thank you for providing it—new boots, socks and your cloak and I cannot get warm."

Loki tried not to laugh. "Let's go inside, then, Lady Icicle."

"Agreed," Sigyn whispered. "I suppose that I should ask what to expect when I join you." As they stepped inside, she thought out loud, "I guess that you and Mother should go back so that we can do the meeting at the docks...?" She waved her hand irritably. "When that is over with, I can go somewhere and rest in private."

Frigga only arched an eyebrow as Sigyn swept past to huddle close to the camp stove. "Cold, Sigyn?"

Sigyn nodded. "I have not felt the like before. Sometimes it feels as though our son is drawing the heat out of my bones!" She frowned and her hand fluttered down her belly. "Although I shouldn't say such things about the unborn."

Frigga blanched and only nodded. With only a slightly forceful voice she said, "I agree that Loki and I should go back. I'm sorry my dear, but the meeting at the docks is necessary." She gestured unthinkingly. "We can leave Hogun, if you wish, to guard you while you pack up?"

"I suppose it would be wise," Sigyn said listlessly.

"Throwing me over for Hogun, are you?" Loki teased. With a dramatic sigh, he pressed his hand to his heart and bowed. "However shall I stand it?"

"Oh now you are just being silly!" Sigyn giggled. "I will be well away from him at all times if it pleases you, my prince." She cocked her head in teasing. "Of course, you are welcome to turn him into a cat or some such if it will please your vanity...?" Hogun must have looked startled at that because Loki laughed. "A big cat, if you please. This small child is a royal prince." She waved her hand imperiously and raised her nose arrogantly with a comically haughty look on her face.

Everyone laughed then, even Sigyn.

Loki and Frigga boarded the boat quite soon afterward. Servants could come and clean up and make sure that all was well, rather than attempt to pack everything and bring it with them. Hogun was stationed to guard Sigyn―sleeping in the meadow or in the front room if the weather was foul―and to help her pack her clothing. Sigyn and Hogun blushed fiery red at that thought. Sigyn was mortified at the thought of anyone else seeing the bits of froth that Loki found appropriate bed attire and Hogun was equally mortified at the thought of packing women's clothes. Loki gave her a peck on the cheek―along with a softly whispered promise of a lewd and interesting nature―and promised that he would send for her in three days time.

Hogun was a apparently the quiet, patient sort and Sigyn took an reluctant liking to him as he followed her back up to the path, past the doorway and into the meadow. The animals were securely locked up for the night and there seemed to be no trouble.

"Would you like to sleep inside?" Sigyn offered quietly. "There's plenty of blankets and I can move things around."

"The benches against the wall will be enough for me."

"As you wish. I'll bring you the blankets and a pillow." She yawned. "When I get up in the morning, I'll leave the bed for you for the morning to rest."

So the three days passed, with her getting up in the mornings and leaving him the bedroom for a few hours of precious rest which he protested he did not need before sleeping a short hour or two. Then after a simple lunch, they would begin packing and cleaning and shutting up the place. Then a simple supper―thankfully there was a plentiful supply of bread and cheese and honey, as well as berries, dates and raisins―and Hogun would guard patiently at the doorway while Sigyn slept.

The third day rose brightly and warmly. Hogun nodded at Sigyn as she emerged from the back of the cave. Hanging her head, she sipped a tisane of mint and chamomile, hoping her stomach would someday be steady in the mornings again. Most everything was packed already―squished down into two baskets and a stuffed messenger style bag. Her slippers stuck up out of the side of one basket rather like rabbit ears and her boots stood ready at the door.

She stood unsteadily. "Good morning, friend. I'll be back at lunch," she offered.

"Nothing to eat?" Hogun gently pressed.

"Not this morning," Sigyn sighed. "My stomach is currently knotted from the baby _and_ from the thought of going to Asgard and will not allow it."

"At least take some raisins," he insisted.

"Get some sleep," she replied, taking the package of raisins he pressed in her hand mainly to keep him from nagging. "I'll be fine after a bit." Hogun grunted in reply. "See you at lunch."

The morning was uneventful in the extreme. She let out the goats and chickens, spread the powder and tended her garden. She tossed the weeds into the same pile as always and was watering the plants when an unexpectedly cold breeze blew in from the sea.

Suddenly the watering can shuddered in her hand and then seemed to stick in the air. Sigyn hissed as the metal grew colder. Whirling around, she heard the panicked bleating of the goats as they fled up the paths.

"Who-who is there?" she called. "What's going on?!"

"Come closer, child," laughed a low, cruel sounding voice. "I want to look at you."

Sigyn cocked her head, trying to pinpoint the voice. "I cannot. I cannot see you."

"Just step forward," the voice called.

"I cannot see," Sigyn insisted. "There's nothing here for you." She felt the panic build along with the power Loki called Wild Magic. Hogun would have been asleep in the cave for at least an hour now—there would not likely be help from him since he could not hear her. Suddenly, she felt the flash of Wild Magic releasing towards the sea at the heart of whatever stalked her.

Inexplicably, it _bounced._

She did not know how it happened or why, but she felt the rebound come back and lash her with icy, cold fingers. Gasping for air, she sank to the ground and began scrambling up to the path.

"Little girl," the voice laughed. "I don't think you know what you're doing." From the seaward side, Sigyn heard a groaning of rock and some other sound. A great thump sounded as though something immense had jumped to the island. "Now just lay there." The grinding―or whatever the sound was―almost sounded above her, but surely nothing was that high. Sigyn shrieked as she felt a cold knot form in her belly and her muscles cramp from the chill.

"Ahhh, that's interesting," the voice said. For a moment, all of time seemed to be frozen solid as the voice―whoever he was―seemed to make up his mind. "_Very _interesting." Then, just as suddenly as it started, the roar of rock and whatever it was retreated with a hearty, fading laughter.

Sigyn shrieked again and clamored up the cliff. The billy goat stood at the top, quite bewildered, as she burst past and into the cave.

Hogun was awake almost before she slammed the door. "What happened?" he asked, drawing his weapons.

"I d-d-don't know!" Sigyn wailed. "Please...!" She sank in front of the door. "Please tell me that the boat is coming soon!"

Hogun was flummoxed as he crept forward. Sigyn's magic was creating a zigzag of sparks in every direction like a dozen children without minders running every which way in a field. She was panting and sweating like she had been in battle, but her breath came out in icy puffs. "Magic," he huffed to himself.

"In the meadow," Sigyn gasped, shivering. It felt like a bucket of water had been dumped over her head in winter. "Some_thing _approached me..."

Hogun―for once in a what had probably been a hundred years―cursed profusely in his village's language. He checked her over―her racing pulse, her flushed skin, her fingers. Then he went into the meadow.

The meadow was entirely dead―frozen over like mid-winter. One chicken was dead―an icy ball against the cliff. The apple tree stood with an icy sheen of frost over it entirely with ice dripping off the branches and buds. The pecan tree had split entirely under what appeared to be the weight of immense frost. The side of the cliffs that went into the sea sparkled with a waterfall of ice.

Silently, he climbed back up―noting the gradual change from hoarfrost to thaw to spring up the cliff. Sigyn huddled inside the cave, buried in the blankets from the bed and wrapped in her cloak, beside the camp stove. She still panted, but at least her breath wasn't in such icy puffs.

"Are you okay?" he asked finally.

"I-I think so," Sigyn muttered. "Just scared witless." She inched closer to the stove. "I should have listened more to you and had you come out with me. At least then-"

"Don't blame yourself," Hogun grunted. "Just tell me what happened."

Sigyn felt the words spill out as she tried to describe everything. It was all surreal though―as though it happened to someone else. Vaguely, she guessed she was in shock. And what was so _'____very interesting'_about her tending her garden anyway?

Hogun hovered around her, attempting to help her get warm and to calm down. The hot spring afforded quick and easy hot tea. The goats were somewhere on the cliffs―the billy goat at least was bleating at the door. With a heavy heart, he walked into the cave, pushing the goat back out before it caused mischief inside.

Frigga frowned as her guards helped her down to the beach. Nanny goat was limping there, with Gran-nanny bleating behind her. Sending one guard to fetch the animals, Frigga took another guard up to the cave. The rooster and remaining chicken were huddled in the pathway further up and the billy goat was ramming the doorway.

One of the guards came up behind her. "The goats are on board, but one has a broken leg and the other-" he swallowed heavily.

"The other?" Frigga asked firmly, determined to not show the fear in her heart.

"The other is badly...wounded. ___Frostbitten_, milady," he said with a shudder.

She looked at him. He was young―his father was well connected enough to ensure that he had a relatively easy post in the palace, rather than on the front lines of the battlefield. He had not seen some of the wounds that she had seen and healed. He was pale and seemed to be gritting his teeth. If the worst had happened, he would be unprepared for it, so she simply ordered, "Get the billy goat on board, if you can."

"My lady," he said, looking askance at the goat. "I think you should get to shore as soon as possible."

Frigga cleared her throat. "Let me fetch brave Hogun and Sigyn and we'll be on our way."


	3. The Princess in the Palace

Hogun was at the door when she knocked, glancing around like he expected enemies to fly at them from the sky. Frigga noted that the guard slipped around her, examining the paths, but she took one look at Sigyn and suddenly her heart stood still. Sigyn crouched near the camp stove, unmoving and practically swaddled in blankets. "Sigyn? Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," Sigyn rasped. She straightened, as though she had been sleeping huddled on the floor. "Is Hogun still here?"

"He is," Frigga nodded. "I've come to bring you to Asgard if you are ready?" Hogun grunted significantly. The guard appeared from the trails and grabbed the baskets and bag. "We must leave."

Sigyn stood wearily and shuffled to the party at the door. Hogun crept down the pathways first, followed by Frigga and then Sigyn with the guard behind them. Sigyn heard the shuffles as more guards joined them on the beach and friendly hands lifted her up onto the gangplank. Frigga followed swiftly, murmuring softly to her. Hogun boarded last, waiting until the last guard was aboard with Sigyn's things safely stowed before joining them.

This craft was somewhat larger and flatter than the one that Loki customarily used. However, it could hover and take off swiftly. Sigyn sat with the animals, petting them and speaking softly to them as they flew off. The rooster crowed loudly and in protest at being penned up, but the goats simply laid down in a huddle.

"Are you well, my lady?" the young guard asked her curiously.

Sigyn nodded slowly. "I suppose." She giggled a little dryly. "I had not thought that I would have ever been so anxious to be leaving the island." The guard said nothing, only stood by and listened attentively. "Will we be at Asgard soon?"

"Err...no, my lady," he said reluctantly. "There was no room for a full craft at the island. We are going to board ___The Sea Sprite_in a few minutes. The animals will be below and then we will make your official entry into Asgard." He thought for a few minutes. "___The Sea Sprite _is the favored ship of Her Majesty and one of the largest in the fleet. If you...need a few minutes, then we can take the wide way around the islands so that you have some time."

"Oh," Sigyn whispered. "Thank you―that would be very nice." She petted her goats one last time and drifted to where Frigga was speaking with the captain. The guard fell in step behind her. After only a moment, Frigga addressed her. "I was told that you might take the wide way around so that I could...have some time to get cleaned up appropriately."

"Of course, dear," Frigga nodded. "As soon as we are on board ___The Sea Sprite_, we will go to my cabin and prepare."

Frigga's cabin was immense―larger than the entire cave on the island. Sigyn was hustled aboard and inside in a trice. Quickly, Frigga handed her some soap and poured some washing water from a pitcher. Loki had sent along a beautiful silk dress of green trimmed in gold. Shivering, Sigyn dressed in it, glad to be inside the cabin, rather than on the deck. Braiding her hair simply, she pushed the golden rose combs into her hair to hold the braid into a bun and pulled on her cloak.

It seemed no time at all before Frigga announced that they were approaching the last turn and almost at the docks. Frowning, Sigyn came out on the deck, determined to make a good appearance and to get to Loki as swiftly as possible. She felt Frigga's determined glow―the hard won sheen of serenity that came not from calm but from the knowing that something must be endured.

The docks had a relatively nice crowd on them as docks generally do when trading is high. That Odin and Loki were coming to greet ___The Sea Sprite _was raising the levels of the crowds somewhat, but not nearly so much as if Thor had been coming. Still, there was cheering as Odin rode past on his eight legged steed, with Loki beside him astride a dashing black stallion. The black chomped at the bit and danced as it picked through the crowd―almost like it was eager to be there and be gone.

The cheering rose as ___The Sea Sprite _came into view. Loki smiled as he saw Frigga and Sigyn on the deck with grim Hogun close at hand. Frigga was in ivory and gold and Sigyn dressed in his own colors of green and gold. The ship drifted effortlessly closer and finally glided to a stop at the dock.

Guards hustled around and helped the ladies down. Hogun grasped Sigyn's hand firmly as she gingerly set foot ashore and then led her down the docks himself. Loki's eyes gleamed in surprise as Hogun was far from his friend and yet he attended Sigyn so closely.

"Welcome, Sigyn of the Misty Isle," Odin said importantly.

Sigyn curtsied as best she could with her legs wobbling beneath her. "Thank you," she managed to croak out.

"We welcome you to the palace and...to our family," Odin said. The soft whispers raised into cheers as Odin continued to orate and welcome her to Asgard. The crowd roared in approval as Loki finally dismounted and led Sigyn to his steed. Seating her safely, he mounted up. Odin did likewise with Frigga as a guard handed the reins to a warhorse to Hogun. Quite soon, they were on their way to the palace.

"Pompous windbag does like his dramatic speeches," Loki whispered in her ear. He sighed. "You'll get tired of them soon enough."

Sigyn only huddled closer to him and shrugged. "I need to speak with you as soon as we can get away."

Loki frowned at her and dropped a kiss on her head. "As you wish." He glanced over at Frigga and back at Hogun. Frigga was whispering similarly to Odin. Hogun was as dour as ever as though he were eternally gritting his teeth, and refused to look him in the eye. Something had apparently gone...very wrong.

Instead of following the well-trodden path leading from the town to the stables, Loki broke off to follow a smaller bridle trail to a warm and sunny garden with high walls. Hogun followed without comment, breaking off as well. If Odin was surprised to suddenly find them turning off the expected path, he made not the slightest gesture and simply turned around to follow behind.

Loki glanced around as he dismounted, pleased at the little space. It was somewhat larger than the meadow on the island, surrounded by high walls on three sides. The fountain in the middle sported blooming water lilies with frothy pink petals floating around its rather plain feminine figure with the obligatory pouring vase. An ancient willow tree shaded one side with long trails of leaves dangling down almost to the ground and shading one of the benches. The other bench was in the full sun beside the bowl of the fountain. Stone cats cavorted around the base of the fountain in the tall grass. Against the wall was an old watering can and tall pots filled with rich, dark soil waiting for seedlings and care.

He lifted Sigyn out of the saddle and set her on the grass. She knelt down slowly, smiling as she felt the warm earth and grass. Her hand pressed suddenly to her mouth as she simply knelt. Tears refused to come—she hurt too deeply for that. But here there was warmth—sunshine and green growing things and she felt she could almost see the light that filled the garden.

Loki squatted beside her. "Sigyn," he said in the lowest, gentlest voice he could manage in the face of his rage. "Tell me what happened."

Sigyn gasped and suddenly it felt as though the dam burst inside, allowing the tears and hysteria to flood out. The torches in the walls suddenly burst into flame and the water seemed to wave wildly for a moment. "I...can only tell you what I know," she said. "Where is Hogun? He will know as well since he saw the meadow."

Hogun dismounted, glancing at the high walls with the guarded walkways. At least five guards could easily view the garden at any time from various points in the castle and seven currently looked down into the guard at the curious flares of flames. There were two doors that lead inside—one into the family wing and one into the wing where social events were held. He grunted—likely there was a hidden door as well, if he knew Loki. He waved at them and they drew back slightly with worried expressions on their faces.

Loki shot Hogun a fierce look as he wrapped his arms around Sigyn. "Will ___someone _tell me ___what in the name of Odin happened?__"_

Hogun gave the reigns of his warhorse to one of the gardeners who was passing through and waved him away. "We were attacked," Hogun said softly. "She was attacked in the meadow."

Sigyn shuddered. "I went there alone to tend the garden and the animals-" Loki cursed softly. "I thought it would be all right since we had been there three days without problems, so I told Hogun to sleep for a few hours and we'd lunch together and wait for the...your mother."

Loki closed his eyes, feeling his own rage boiling over. Every muscle screamed to destroy whatever had attacked her, although in his gut he knew—_just knew—_who had. Holding on to Sigyn, he didn't even hear Frigga and Odin approach the garden. "Then what happened?" he gritted out.

"I felt the cold first," Sigyn whispered. "And heard a grinding of rocks and..._something _else. A voice told me to come forward. I couldn't—I said that I was blind—and it said that...I was interesting. ___Very interesting._" She sobbed. "I tried to fight it off—but it must have been huge or something because my magic bounced off it and back towards me!"

Hogun's eyes went wide in surprise. "Are you sure...?"

"The meadow, Hogun!" Loki barked.

"The meadow...was entirely frozen." Hogun's voice was even and still, but seemed gritty with some emotion. "Nothing survived." He took in a sip of air. "We saved the goats and the rooster and one chicken. The trees both were frozen solid—one tree was split off at the trunk—and the cliffs were sheathed in ice."

Frigga gasped behind them, and fell into Odin's arms. Odin cradled Frigga and nodded to Hogun, who backed up.

"Hogun?" Sigyn called softly. "My thanks for your care." She spoke to Loki. "He guarded me so well and has been a good friend to have."

Loki's arms tightened around her. "My ___thanks _for your efforts." He glared. "However, I will not ___thank you _for failing her. It is only for some dread reason she still lives."

Hogun only nodded stoically.

"It is well, then-" Odin ventured. "-that Sigyn has agreed to stay with us. If the Frost Giants are interested in her, then she must be guarded." His eye turned to Loki. "You did well to bring her here so swiftly."

"Sigyn," Loki whispered. "Do you think that you will be able to rest in the palace? I wish to speak to my father."

"Will I be with you soon?" Sigyn asked softly.

"Soon," he promised. "And I will take you around myself." He shot another glare at Hogun. "I trust that you can lead her down the hallways to her apartments without mishap?"

Hogun nodded and Loki very deliberately placed Sigyn's hand on his, as though showing both his power and her ring. Hogun could not even fake a smile. "This way, princess," he said, leading her to the doorway into the family wing.

"When we have peace, you can tell me what you see," Sigyn offered. "But for now I am grateful to have a bed to sleep on and something to drink." She let Hogun lead the way silently into the palace.

Loki stared after them, lost in his own rage. His hands clenched in their gauntlets and he fought the inclination to obliterate something. After some moments, he turned towards his parents. With false calm, he asked them, "Why do you suppose that the Frost Giants find Sigyn so _interesting_?"

Odin cleared his throat and Frigga hid her face into Odin's armored chest. "I...I...can only guess." His eye dropped to Frigga.

Loki spread his hands hatefully. "I have been visiting Sigyn for well on to three ___years_. And only now have they interfered." He glared at Frigga. "Only after I bring ___you_, Mother, do they show an interest. Why is that, do you suppose?"

"Loki!" Odin barked. "You will treat your mother with more respect." His blue gaze snapped in anger at his son's murderous emerald one. "If you have an accusation, then make it, otherwise, let us be more productive."

"Yes, I have an accusation," Loki spat. "I accuse the Frost Giants of breaking the treaty and invading our land. Whether or not this was intended to trap me or..._Mother_, I do not know, but I mean to find out."

"How, Loki?" Odin snapped.

"By whatever means necessary!" Loki snapped proudly. "If I have to, I will go to Jotenhiem and rip it out of them one by one."

"I forbid it!" Odin snarled. "We must abide by the treaty."

"They have _broken your precious treaty!_" Loki growled. "Now they threaten all of Asgard."

Odin nodded. "The forays have been repelled easily and those who invaded paid for their blunder." He arched an eyebrow. "You can ask Thor if you doubt that."

"Oh, I will ask Thor," Loki promised darkly. Spinning on his heel, he turned and stalked away.

"Loki. Loki!" Odin shouted, but Loki kept walking and slammed the door behind him.

Frigga burst into tears. "Oh, my son, my son." She looked up at Odin with sad eyes. "We need to tell him. This is bigger than he suspects and he needs to be prepared."

"We will do nothing just yet," Odin decreed. "He needs to calm down." Frigga glared at him. "Sigyn is safer now that we can protect her within the palace. It was Loki's idea to spirit her away to such a distant and unguarded island."

Frigga stood stiffly. "This is Laughey," she stated simply. "Laughey is only making good on his promise." Odin's eyebrows raised. "He promised you as you took the child that he would repay you in kind." Frigga's purple eyes filled with tears. "And so it has come to pass..."

"We will protect Sigyn," Odin repeated. "She and her child will be safe."

"And the ___birth_," Frigga snapped softly. "What then? When Loki realizes his child is half-blooded Jotun?"

"Then, we will have a grandchild," Odin murmured. "And I will bind the same disguise on the baby that I put on Loki."

"My love," Frigga sighed. "I have loved you for eons." She gestured lamely at the doorway Loki had vanished behind. "I loved you more when you took pity on the babe you brought back from the land of the Frost Giants—from that place where he was alone on a stone with blood all around him. I feared when you spoke of Laughey's words, but I thought that we were yet many years from such an impasse." She shook her head slightly. "But this must be fixed with ___honesty _and ___truth_. He will be less hurt if you speak plainly of this to him than if you continue to hide it—particularly since it now haunts Sigyn as well." Odin started to protest, but Frigga halted him. "You cannot continually enchant generation after generation, hoping to hide this truth. Sooner or later, someone will figure it out."

"You are wise, dear Frigga. But Loki is not ready for such a heavy burden." He smiled at her sadly. "When he has heard little but stories of the violence of the Frost Giants and how terrible they are, he is not yet ready to accept that truth—that he can be greater than his blood right." He gestured towards the selfsame doors. "Sigyn is a wonderful opportunity to open his mind to the possibility that he is a prince of Asgard as well as ___that_." He looked at Frigga seriously. "Can you truly say that he will calmly accept his true identity?"

"He ___is _a prince—and your son."

"He is Thor's brother. What would Thor do? Especially after he has seen so many of his brethren fall to the Frost Giants? What would Loki do to hide the truth? Would he start a war with Jotenheim to hide it? Would Thor?" He shrugged philosophically. "Thor and Loki are already strained-"

"Loki is straining because he doesn't understand what is going on!" Frigga snapped. "He ___knows _that Thor will be your choice, but he doesn't know ___why_! And not knowing is driving him mad because he will continually try to puzzle out why you don't consider him equal to Thor!" She flopped on the bench beside the fountain. "He is your son in that! He will continually peck and hack at the puzzle until it becomes clear. Just as you do! And this puzzle—this is his identity. His whole world is built on the lie that you are his natural father, but that you don't love him as a natural son!"

"I love both my sons!" Odin snapped.

Frigga sighed. "I know you do. But I also know that they had not yet come of age before you decided that Thor should follow you." She stared into the spill of water. "And now Sigyn comes in—with an entirely new perspective of the Jotun ___and of Thor__. _To her, ___Thor _is the dangerously overpowered one." She shuddered. "We are luckily spared the prospect if she had thrown in with the Jotens—Laughey stopped that with his attack." She looked up at her husband. "Have you considered that she might tip the scales in Loki's favor?"

"Nonsense! Thor is adored by the people!" Odin bristled.

"Of course, dear. And he will remain adored so long as he follows your ways. However," Frigga smiled wisely. "___Sigyn_will give the people the wedding and children that they want to watch. Sigyn is humble enough to be gracious to everyone, friendly enough that even Hogun now watches over her gently, and desires to be peaceful with all she meets. She desires the simple things in life—her garden, her animals and peace with her chosen love. And you know how much the people love watching whirlwind romances and fairy tale love matches! You and Thor will always be adored, but Sigyn has the possibility of being ___loved_."

Odin said nothing for a long while. "We can give Loki the spectacle that he wants—the royal wedding to Sigyn—and that will put him safely in the spotlight for some time until the child comes."

Frigga nodded in agreement. "I will ensure that she is comfortable and settled as she makes peace with Thor. She is...rough around the edges, but she has a good heart and noble intentions."

"It is a shame about her face, though," Odin remarked idly. "I would like to have our healers examine the scars, just to be sure that everything has been tried."

Frigga chuckled. Odin loved beauty as much or more than any other Asgardian. But the scars made Sigyn seem...approachable. Even the young guard who had helped her aboard the ship had been smiling at her, charmed by her humor and grace. Hogun's eyes had followed her and he himself had led her down the gangplank.

Now as long as she didn't seriously hurt anyone—including and especially Thor—they might stand a chance.

Loki made good his promise, winding through the hallways to Sigyn's apartments. Two of the maids that had been assigned to her service tittered in the doorway, giggling at some jest. They softly pushed the door open just as he rounded the corner. Cloaking himself in shadow, he listened to them titter.

"Oh, such a simple girl!" the first one said on a low voice—but not low enough. She had a long, skinny nose that reminded one of a hawk and long braids of flaxen gold that contrasted with the blue dress all the female servants to the family used as their uniform. "Can you believe the dresses she brought with her?"

The other one—a brunette with what might have been charming blue eyes—nodded uncertainly and grew suddenly bold in the hallway where she saw no one but her companion. "Yes—such ___crude _little things. You can certainly tell which ones were picked out for her." She chuckled. "And those _scars_! Have you ever seen the like?"

"Never!" The hawk-nosed girl shuddered dramatically and tossing her braids. "Whatever did Frigga see in her to bring her here?"

The other girl smirked. "The Mistress of the Wardrobe told her assistant who told me that she is pledged to Loki."

"Serves her right," the first nodded smugly. "Such a homely, simple creature thinking so much above her station!"

Loki opened his mouth—the word to dispel his magic and appear before them out of seemingly thin air was on his tongue—when another maid exited and closed the door behind her. This one was a rather portly older woman with her gray hair in a neat bun behind her head and a rather matronly air about her. She turned, looking right through Loki, and smiled frigidly at the other two.

"Are you both ___still _here?" she snapped angrily. Loki took one look at her face and ducked out of the way. The two younger women gaped in shock. "Haven't you both said enough?" With wave, she slapped both girls. Their hands went up to their faces—now each marked with a rosy hand print. "You are both fortunate that no one else was here ___but _me." She glared at them as they both stared in shock. "Any member of the royal family would punish you by setting you in the dungeons!"

"Oh, Memnet," one of them whined. "It's just a blind beggar girl."

"'_Just a blind beggar girl'?_" Memnet asked indignantly. "Firstly, the lady is a '_she_'-not an '_it_'. It doesn't matter where she has come from or what her story is, she is a ___guest _of the royal family." Memnet shoved them both towards the wall and Loki narrowly leaped out of the way. "The _guest _is polite and mannerly and has ___not _asked for your heads on platters."

"Why? What did we do?" they both chorused.

"As ___if _you didn't leave the door open so that she could hear you!" Memnet all but shook in her fury. "If you don't have any particular attachment to your positions here, I'm sure that you can _both _find employment elsewhere!" She shot them both an evil eye that even Loki found somewhat blood chilling. "And do not even ___think _that I will not report this. The maids under ___my _fosterage know how to treat guests—_no matter who they are. _The maids under ___my_fosterage are known for respect and treating all with courtesy. The maids that I train and supervise are renowned through the palace for being mannerly, gracious and generous." She reached and grabbed their braids and yanked hard. "And I will not have two oafish, nasty, ___mean-spirited vipers _spreading vicious stories because they are too ___featherbrained _to realize that their behavior has consequences!" This last she bellowed to the flinching maids. Puffy cheeks red and her eyes bloodshot, she bellowed like a dragon, "Now _go_! I will attend her myself and ___try _to put this aright." She glared at them again. "And if I have any more trouble from you, Frigga herself—_who commanded this place welcome her—_will hear of it!" She glared at them again. "Now, Kendal, would your palace guard welcome you after being removed from service for such gossip or would he throw you back so that he would not be associated with such trouble?" The hawk-nosed girl gasped and fled. "And you—Shannon! I ___will _speak to your father about this!"

Memnet watched both girls flee. It was a reflection on her if any of the maids she supervised misbehaved and she had also heard that Loki had taken particular care with this guest. Whether it was true or not was almost irrelevant because of Frigga's interest. "Stupid chits!" she muttered under her breath.

Entering the room again and not knowing that Loki followed her, she looked around the first room of the apartment. Many of the low tables had been removed, along with the usual collection of floor pillows and hassocks. Everything had been spaced so that there was plenty for two people—such as when one had to be led—to get around. Two vases stood in front of the huge windows with bouquets—one of pink roses and one of honeysuckle blossoms. A large couch stood in the middle of the room with a low table in front of it. There was an immense fireplace with an ironwork grate against the wall. The marble floor shone brightly—the rugs having been removed temporarily.

In the next room was the immense canopy bed with two sets of curtains—one of sheer fabric with embroidery so fine it resembled lace and one set of green velvet for chilly nights. Frigga had arranged for three bookcases—regrettably empty of books—to be placed in here, along with an immense chest of drawers. A small dressing table was against the wall on one side of the bed with a box for combs, a silver and gold backed brush and matching comb.

Against the wall on the other side (closer to the window) was a handsomely carved desk and chair. A second fireplace was opposite the bed, along with the door to the dressing closet and the bathing chamber.

The closet contained racks and drawers and cubicles of all sizes to store dresses, hats, shoes and whatnot, along with a carved chair that allowed sitting while dressing. The closet was very obviously for those with more lavish wardrobes. Sigyn's few clothes hung neatly on the rack, her slippers and boots the only two things in the bottom.

The private bathing area was cozy and dominated by the tub against the back wall. Sigyn rested in the steamy water, surrounded by the soft, floral fragrance of the oil that Frigga had given her. A stack of soft drying cloths of linen was folded within her reach and the midden was shielded by a wall and door.

"Who is it?" she called as she heard Memnet approach. She sat clumsily and reached for a cloth.

"Just me, child," Memnet puffed.

"Oh," Sigyn said, laying back down.

"Don't worry about a thing," Memnet said, pushing the stack of cloths closer. "You rest and relax and then you can have a nice nap." She smiled benignly at her. "The journey must have been immensely tiring."

"Mmmhmm," Sigyn nodded, breathing deeply.

"Now, let me go fetch you something to nibble on and something to drink," Memnet sighed.

"Thank you," Sigyn said warmly. Then, blushing shyly, she added, "For everything." Memnet looked at her with a curious smile. Sigyn stood and wrapped a cloth around herself. "Please...I don't want to be any trouble."

"Oh no trouble! No trouble at all!" the older woman replied cheerily. "While I'm out, I'll see about a robe so that you can stay warm. I reckon it will be a cool spring."

Sigyn chuckled softly. "I meant about the...other girls." She could hear the quick intake of breath, but not see that Memnet paled. "It really doesn't matter—what they said..."

"Nonsense," Memnet said, puffing her chest out again. "We can't have the maids insulting our guests. It is unthinkable!"

Sigyn gingerly stepped from the tub and felt until she found the stack of cloths and began drying herself. Memnet bustled around her and began drying her gently. "I meant no insult, truly." She shrugged a little. "It takes time to get used to my face, I suppose."

"Oh, don't you worry about that." Memnet dropped the moist cloth and picked up another. "I'll take care of it."

"You are truly a wonder, then." Sigyn smiled and went through to the closet to take one of her "crude" dresses off the rack. "No wonder Asgard is the envy of other realms if everyone can have doubtless a full day's worth of work and then still manage to take care of random guests so carefully."

Loki nodded in silent (invisible) agreement. He was sure that Memnet would appreciate a little extra pay with his gratitude. Kendal and Shannon...he would deal with as well.

Memnet bustled around Sigyn, trying to help and shrugging her shoulders as Sigyn got on with dressing by herself. Dressed, she reached down and picked up the moist towels. "Where do these go?" Sigyn asked.

"Just give them to me, dear," Memnet muttered taking them from her. "If you wish, you can just go on through and I'll be back in a trice to brush the tangles from your hair."

"Oh!" Sigyn started. "Ahh...if you wish..." The younger woman allowed herself to be led to the dressing table and her hair brushed in long, soothing strokes and then braided.

"Such lovely hair," Memnet said. "It must be a source of pride..." She wrapped the end in a silky white ribbon. "When we have the feast tonight, I'll come back and we'll put your combs in and do your hair up right so that you'll be proud to come down. We'll put curling ribbons in it to match the lovely green dress.

"There you go," the maid said approvingly. "Now, off to bed. A body must have rest to keep up with everyone at a royal feast."

"Feast?" Sigyn asked.

"To welcome you, of course. It's so that those who were not there to see you dock can be introduced properly to you and you to them. You are to sit at the high table with the royal family." Memnet nodded and pulled down the sheets. "You'll likely be expected to be up most of the night, so rest now."

Sigyn sat on the bed. "My lady...?"

"Oh, heavens...just called me 'Memnet'."

"Memnet, then," Sigyn smiled warmly. "Tell me...is there gossip about me already?"

Loki's arms crossed his chest as he waited for the answer.

Memnet blanched and then sighed. "Yes...there is already gossip. Most of it is nonsense and blather—nothing to trouble you with."

"Some of it is more than 'nonsense and blather', though, isn't it?" Sigyn tried to smile. "I do not seek trouble, but it might be better to have questions asked and answered rather than rely on word of mouth." She quirked her mouth. "And gossip does tend to die down when the truth is spoken."

Memnet nodded slowly. "All right then, but then no more dilly-dallying!" She studied the younger woman perched on the bed. "There's a rumor that you are a witch that has bewitched the queen-" Sigyn laughed so heartily at that, Memnet laughed too. "-or Prince Loki!"

Sigyn felt her nose stuff up. Had she had eyes, they would have been watering with her laughter. "Oh my! I cannot see him, but I'm supposed to have cast a spell to bewitch the greatest sorcerer in Asgard. Can no one else see how silly that is?"

Memnet laughed as well. "Nonsense and blather!" She sat casually at the dressing table chair. "Then there is the one that you are actually an enchanted princess-!"

Sigyn laughed again. "With not more than a dress or two to my name. 'Tis like a children's story!" She smiled. "I think that I can trust you, so I ask you for advice." Memnet sobered quickly, but the laughter was still in her eyes. "The truth is that...Lo—___Prince_Loki and I are... Well, we are pledged to each other-"

Memnet's eyes twinkled. "Ahh...how wonderful! A love match?"

Sigyn nodded. "Truthfully I swooned into his arms the first time I met him!" She was still smiling at the older maid. "We are-"

"To be married!" Memnet finished. "Ahh...to have a gay wedding here." She stood almost instantly, checking the room again. "And their Majesties are overjoyed, I'm sure!"

Sigyn giggled—she had barely met Odin at all and could hardly say his reaction. "We were...trying to keep it something of a secret, but it is so wonderful I couldn't bear it any longer and we are going to announce it officially soon."

"Oh, my dear—I mean, my lady," Memnet said. "This is, of course, wonderful news. Everyone was expecting Thor to marry first, but this is so wonderful—so romantic. I was honestly wondering if either of them would _ever _find a true love!" She suddenly stopped herself and curtseyed. "Begging your pardon, of course."

"I'm so glad to have someone to confide in," Sigyn replied. With a sly smile, she said, "Of course, it must be announced at the right time. I'm sure that you'll help me in this...?"

Loki almost choked at the subtle manipulation. Sigyn was a natural at drawing people to her and making them feel welcome into her circle. Yet she had a deft hand at making sure of her outcomes. He wondered if he was responsible for that.

"And here I am keeping you up when you should be resting," Memnet muttered. "Off to bed with you! A nice nap and we'll dress you up and you'll attend the feast." She drew the covers over Sigyn. "And don't you worry—you'll be the envy of all who attend."

Loki waited until the maid left and then made himself visible. "Hmm...a little dove is in this bed..."

"Loki!" Sigyn sat up and fiercely hugged him. "I was afraid that I wouldn't see you until this feast tonight."

"I am here," he said with a grin. "Now, we must sleep if we are to be rested for the feast. It will go on and on and on until you wish it would end and then go on some more." He lay on top of the covers, tucking Sigyn in. "Of course..." His hand drifted over her gown. "If there was anything...else you needed..."

Sigyn smiled at him and he could not resist reaching for her.

Sigyn was alone in the immense bed when Memnet came to rouse her that evening. Two different maids accompanied her, carrying a fashionable outfit of the green and black silk Frigga had so admired, a cloak, a headpiece and various undergarments. Memnet herself sported a new bracelet and none could know but her, she had 'found' a gift of several gold coins wrapped in a small piece of green cloth beside the small package that held her lunch.

Sleepily nodding and finally rousing, Sigyn was swept into a well-meaning storm of gentle hands that helped her dress. They brought her a cold washing cloth for her face and rubbed lotion into her skin. Her undergarments were of fine silk—a delicately embroidered chemise, thin chausses that were like Midgard stockings. Over that came the kirtle of green with lavish gold embroidery—this time of lush vines of flowers. The kirtle tied at the neck with a silky green ribbon and came down to her knees. The first gunna was a plainer dress with embroidery of flowers and leaves along the hem a few inches from the floor and long green sleeves that fitted closely all the way to her wrist. The second gunna was the green-black silk with a wide panel cut away in front to expose the embroidery beneath and the sleeves were loosely tied around her arm. Laces of emerald ribbon went down the sides, allowing it to be tightened around Sigyn's body. The deep neckline sparkled with emerald gemstones scattered in the gold embroidery and down the arms.

Memnet led Sigyn to the chair and took out the simple necklace and laid it around her throat. "Aye, just right. Not too fancy," she said. The maids and Memnet unbraided Sigyn's hair and spread it out against her back. "Did I not tell you that this was beautiful hair?" Memnet asked no one in particular.

The maids nodded and carefully drew back two locks of hair from her face and began braiding it. It was the fashion currently to have two braids to the back of the head since that was what Thor sported these days. Memnet clucked and braided the rest in some complicated fashion and coiled it into a slick bun at the very back of her head. Fishing in her pockets, she pulled out the emerald tipped, gold hair pins and fastened the bun in place. The headpiece was a coil of gold that sat on the crown of the head with a neat fold of lace that came down over the top half of Sigyn's face rather like a veil. The maids were very silent, watching as Memnet took over—gently rubbing Sigyn's cheeks to bring out the color and pulling a tiny bit of hair to drift around her face which softened the severe hairstyle.

"Ahh, chick," Memnet said softly. "You'll steal many a heart tonight."

Sigyn laughed softly. "Doubtful since the only heart I desire is..."

"_Loki's_," one maid giggled. "He's so handsome-!" The other maid frowned and shushed her. "What? He is!"

Sigyn blushed a fiery red and giggled. Gesturing at the one who had spoken, she reached out to touch the maid's hand. Memnet frowned at the maid, sure that Sigyn was going to ___remind _her that she was only a maid, but instead Sigyn whispered overly loudly, "I think he is, too. But don't tell him that or he will become swelled in the head."

Everyone burst into friendly laughter. Memnet brought out a pair of lovely slippers of deep mahogany. Carefully, they helped Sigyn up and straightened her skirts. Memnet hovered around, carefully adjusting the netting and her hair and necklace. Then, whisking a bottle off the dressing table, she applied just a little of the perfume to Sigyn's neck. "It will make him draw closer, lass," Memnet nodded.

Sigyn flushed again, considering how _close _Loki had already been. Fortunately, she was not yet showing. She shifted restlessly and waited for them to finish.

Fortunately, a knock sounded at the door. "Oh, that will be himself," Memnet muttered. "You—go lead him in. No—wait. Let him sit in the front room until we're done. Go on, you."

One of the maids tripped out and closed the bedroom door behind her. Sigyn turned towards Memnet. "That isn't nice. We're surely almost ready."

"Won't hurt him a bit to wait a moment to see you," Memnet said with confidence. She fished in her pocket again and pulled out a lavish emerald bracelet and wrapped it around one wrist. "Now...you're ready."

Loki stood in the front room, watching the fireplace, as the doorway opened. In a mesmerizing swish of silk, Sigyn emerged, lead by Memnet. He smiled widely, his heart puffing with pride, at how well she looked. "Sigyn," he whispered, approaching. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "You look...good enough to eat."

"Now, none of that Your Highness," Memnet said only half-way teasing. "There's time enough for ___that _after the wedding. 'Tis only a month away."

"A month?" Sigyn gasped.

"Yes, Memnet," Loki replied without the slightest irritation. "I will have her back in your care as soon as the feast ends." Memnet lit out a harumph and drug the maids off. To Sigyn he explained, "Memnet was one of the maids to my mother when I was growing up. She has longed for children of her own, but unfortunately could not have any, so she is glad to have someone to mother." He shrugged. "Not to mention that she seems to adore reminding me of my manners."

"It makes her feel useful and young, I imagine."

"Hmmm..." Loki began to lead Sigyn from her rooms to the great hall. "Do you want me to try to spell out what's happening or do you want to improvise?"

"Oh dear," Sigyn frowned. "That sounds...serious. I thought this was a...well, ___casual _feast."

Loki laughed shortly. "Nothing that the Allfather does is casual, my love." He tucked her arm against him. "And you have blessed Frigga with weeks to stew about the wedding, so she has already laid out the plans." He laughed brightly. "All of the dressmakers are waiting with baited breath to see which one you will choose and the flowers you will carry."

"Heavens," Sigyn sighed. "All this fuss. I suppose that you had best tell me what to expect." She tossed her head. "And when I should curtsey and nod and whatever."

Loki laughed. "When I press your hand here, curtsy as I bow. If it is here, then simply nod regally. And, then here, we will be moving on to the next group." He gently touched her hand in three places. "So what happens here?"

"I bow."

"And here?"

"I curtsy."

"And here?"

"You want us to move on to another group."

"And here?" he smiled as he pressed his hand against her chest.

Sigyn smiled. "You wish to leave immediately so that we can..._rest._"

"Smart woman," he chuckled. "See? No need to worry."

"And what about all the names? The places?"

"If you like, this time around I'll do most of the talking. There will likely be hundreds of people—and no one will expect you to remember the names completely." He sighed dramatically. "But, you will be bumping into these same people again and again, so in time you will know them very well."

Sigyn laughed this time. "I see. It's all boring for you since you've done this for years?" She frowned as they turned a corner. "What if I step on someone's foot or kick someone by accident?" She paled. "Or have...an _accident_?"

"Not going to happen," Loki growled in her ear. "I will be close by every moment." His other hand stroked the hand resting in the crook of his elbow. "And we will take it slowly so that there are no other..._accidents_."

And so it was. Odin greeted them warmly, along with Frigga. Loki led her to a seat at the high table and the feast was served. Frigga interjected often, asking about her favorite flowers, her favorite foods, and such stuff related to the wedding. She couldn't see it, but as Frigga began another line of questions—what sorts of cakes did she like best—Loki shot a pained look to Odin. He had scarcely been able to get a word in edgewise between talk of cake, flowers, dresses and the like. Odin only nodded with a look of straight-laced innocence—but he had an unmistakable twinkle of mischief in his eye as Loki squirmed impatiently for a chance to speak to his own lady. After the best part of the feast, Loki took Sigyn around the great hall, introducing her to what seemed like thousands of people. Everyone was curious about her—where did she come from and who was she—but when they began to pry, Loki would laugh and move her on.

Then Odin called everyone to order. Everyone looked forward respectfully and watched as Loki and Sigyn moved forward down the center aisle.

"Loki Odinsson," Odin's voice boomed. "Do you pledge to take this woman—Sigyn of the Misty Isle—into your keeping? To guard her life and honor with your own? To hold her in sickness, in health, in times of peace and times of war, in times of want and times of plenty?"

"I do," Loki said in a sure voice.

"Do you, Sigyn of the Misty Isle, pledge to take Loki Odinsson into your keeping? To guard his life and honor with your own? To hold him in sickness, in health, in times of peace and times of war, in times of want and times of plenty?"

"I do," she replied, trying to mimic Loki's own sure tones.

"Do you, Loki Odinsson, claim this woman alone and to pledge your fidelity only to her? To keep her above all other women? And in marriage bind this pledge into truth?"

"I do."

"Do you, Sigyn, claim this man alone and pledge your fidelity only to him? To keep him above all other men? And in marriage bind this pledge into truth?"

"There are no other men like him," Sigyn whispered so softly Loki alone could hear it. Loki flushed slightly and Odin's eye snapped sharply. "I do," Sigyn repeated firmly.

"Loki, Sigyn—you have given your vows for all to hear." He actually smiled—a real, warm, genuine smile this time. "You have been pledged to be married before all of Asgard and before your king. Now, please join hands."

Loki took her hands in his. "Turn to face them, beloved," he whispered.

Odin's joy rang in his voice as it boomed out in the hallways. "I present Loki and Sigyn. They have pledged to be married and so it shall be done!" Gungir thundered on the floor with a rather pleasantly dramatic flash of fire along the marble.

The entire hall erupted into joyful cheers. Loki smiled and nodded, wrapping one arm around Sigyn as she leaned against him. Sigyn tried to smile, and it came off as modest, rather than shy.

"Let the feasting begin!" Odin shouted and immediately servants came out with fresh platters of meat, an entire suckling pig, and yet more dishes. Not to mention pitcher after pitcher of ale, mead and wine.

Sigyn nudged Loki. "Please, my love," she whispered. "Allow me to sit. I don't...feel well."

Loki nodded and gradually began trudging towards the high table. Several times warriors who had previously spoken only in passing gave him hale and hearty welcomes. The wives that had looked at him suspiciously now noted with smiles as he carefully shielded Sigyn. He all but purred to hear the hall echo with his name and toasts to his health.

Sigyn finally pressed a hand to her lips. The smell of the multitude of perfumes was overwhelming and now the smells of renewed feasting—onions, garlic, grease and gravy—only added to her illness. Yet she had never felt Loki so happy—his manner seemed to sing with his contentment. Still, he sat her at the table beside Frigga as yet another warrior came forward to offer congratulations.

"My dear," Frigga commented, looking at her pallor. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm sorry," Sigyn gasped. "I must be excused...to take some air." She put a hand over her rumbling stomach. "If you please..."

"Of course," Frigga nodded. "Loki is going to be occupied for some time, but Hogun or Fan...I mean, someone else, can escort you to our private balcony." She patted Sigyn's hand. "The fresh air will help you feel better."

Sigyn only nodded and felt her hand placed on a masculine arm. Surprisingly, she was led scarcely twenty steps behind the high table before there was a doorway to the balcony. The air was crisp and cool and clear and bore away the cloying smells of the feast. Quite soon her stomach settled as the soft smell of flowers and herbs in some garden down below the balcony drifted upwards.

It was so peaceful, so wonderfully quiet. Sigyn's ears perked as she heard low voices behind her. Turning a little, she asked, "Is someone there?"

Sif stepped out onto the balcony and slid the door closed with a quiet click. "I am here," she said with a calm she did not feel.

"Your voice is familiar," Sigyn nodded halfheartedly. "But I have met so many people today that I have difficulty placing it..."

"I am...the Lady Sif."

Sigyn swallowed heavily. "I see..." she said softly. She felt her stomach clench again, but from sheer terror rather than illness. Her head ached and she could not readily recall why someone would seek her out.

"We have met before," Sif insisted stiffly. "On the island...the ___Misty Isle_." She approached warily. "And I should like to speak with the woman who has turned all of Asgard on its head."

Sigyn listened. "Is the guard still there?"

"I dismissed him," Sif snapped, her patience thin. "You do know that ___I _am a well-known and respected warrior here, don't you?"

"I know nothing about you at all," Sigyn admitted. "Only that you came to the island and would not leave it when I asked you to."

"Is that why you are marrying Loki? To get your island?"

"No," Sigyn said. "I love him very much and we are pledged." She considered her options. There was some room on the balcony, but if her guard was dismissed and this warrior attacked her, she would be at the other woman's mercy. Her hand fluttered down over her stomach.

"Oh no!" Sif whispered softly. "It ___can't _be!"

"What?!" Sigyn snapped.

"A child? You bear the Lie-smith's _child?_"

Sigyn felt her anger build. "I bear ___Loki's _child. I bear a prince." She shrugged and a half smile cocked her lips. "Or princess."

Sif snarled. "'Tis the same—Loki is the Lie-smith." She stomped angrily. "So this is how he plans to oust Thor—to have a child to pressure Odin and Frigga to name _him _king."

Sigyn growled low in her throat. "Have you nothing better to do than to snipe at me? Surely you have _some _duty that you are neglecting!" She took a deep breath. "I am trying to control my temper, ___Lady _Sif. It seems that you are _failing _to do the same." She would have glowered had she eyes. "Now, as it seems that you have nothing but poison to spit, I will take my leave."

"Are you so blind you do not see the evil in him?"

"Are _you _so blind you cannot find any good?!"

"Sif!" Frigga snapped from the doorway. "I demand an explanation for your behavior!"

Sif gaped and turned around to face Frigga in her fury. "My lady... that is...I..."

Frigga glowered and Sif fell silent. "I see that you have decided to corner Sigyn and attack her." She glanced at Sigyn. "And are fortunate that ___she _did not defend herself." She waved at the doorway. "Why don't you and your friends take your leave?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Sif sighed.

"Your Majesty," Sif said softly. "A moment, please..."

"Yes, Sigyn?" Frigga asked in surprise. "You have something to add?"

"While it is true that she sought me out here and we have had harsh words for each other," Sigyn said with a nod. "Perhaps for the sake of Loki and...Th-Th-_Thor _we should try to clear the air and try to be civil." With a shudder, she added, "But under your calming eye, perhaps...?"

Frigga stared at Sigyn in surprise. She had been distracted by an ambassador and then turned to see the guard she had assigned to watch over Sigyn had been walking away with a chagrined look on his face. In only a moment more, she stepped towards the huge glass doors to see Sif screaming angrily.

"Very well," Frigga agreed, pleased that Sigyn was willing to attempt to work out her problems with Sif. It _would _make things easier if everyone could at least be civil.

Sigyn considered her words carefully. "I believe that it is abundantly clear that you do not like Loki." Sif scoffed, but Sigyn only flushed and continued. "However, I do not believe that it benefits anyone to have you openly attacking him—to me or to anyone else."

Frigga glanced at the other woman. Sif flushed scarlet but was silent. "Go on," the queen encouraged.

"If it would help for you to...tell me your side of what has happened, then I will listen. However, I should warn you that I am pledged to Loki and will not break that bond. I have pledged this in front of my king."

"And your king is listening," Odin said softly from the doorway. Loki stood at his side, eyebrows raised in confusion. Neither of them had missed that Frigga and Sigyn had vanished.

"Indeed," Sif purred. "Do go on."

"I believe that my king is fair and just. I cannot believe otherwise." Sigyn felt her powers growing, and hoped that she could just hold out a few more moments. "If there has been ill done, I would say that it is the king's duty to judge the merits of the case and ___not me_. It does you no good to come to me unless you truly mean to stir me into rebellion against the one to whom I have pledged loyalty, fidelity and honor."

Sif's eyes went wild and she shrieked, "He plots against everyone and desires to only serve himself!" She waved her arms angrily. "I have seen him plotting and scheming. Everyone here has felt the sting of his mischief."

Sigyn faltered. "If that is the case-"

Loki sucked in his breath nervously. He had cut Sif's hair—that was true. He had done her ill and her hair had not grown back—courtesy of the magical blade he conjured. Instead, she had been forced to appeal to the dwarves, who made her a magical head of dark brown hair, rather than the ravishing gold she had boasted of. And that was probably one of the least of his pranks since he could not remember them all save that they amused him at the time.

"-then you must take it up with the king."

"I have!" she barked. "I have attempted everything to-"

"-To what?" Sigyn barked back. "To have Loki banished or killed?" She gestured angrily. "It would seem to me that you are instead angry at the outcome of the judgment and that rather than seeking justice and being content, you seek vengeance against the king's own judgment."

"I do not!" Sif roared. "You are ___blind_-!"

"Agreed," Sigyn sighed. "That is without question. Why bring it up?"

Sif growled and realized that she was losing ground in this confrontation. She sputtered angrily.

Sigyn felt for the low banister and leaned against it. "Now, I have promised that I would listen to your complaints, if it would help ease your anger. I have promised—equally—loyalty and fidelity to Loki. _I will not move against him._"

"You will soon find a dagger in your back for your troubles," Sif promised.

"Would that be ___your _dagger?" Loki asked softly, his eyes glittering green.

Sif sputtered again, glaring daggers at Loki. "You would undoubtedly beat me to it." She glared at Sigyn. "You are deluded, ___blind _fool to think that the Lord of Lies and Mischief would spare you one moment longer than when your usefulness has expired. I don't know how you managed to manipulate this...this _engagement_, but I would watch my back were I you."

Sigyn sighed deeply. "I will consider your warnings carefully, Lady Sif." She offered her hand. "I am as deeply against Thor as you are against Loki for reasons of my own. So deeply that I tried...tried to strike him down when you were at my home." She shook her head and her empty hand dropped. "If you will work to find some peace with Loki, I will work to find some peace with Thor. Would that help you, Lady Sif?"

"Thor isn't even here!" Sif snapped. "He was sent on a tour of the battlements because of ___you_."

Sigyn blanched. "Ahh...I did wonder." She hung her head and after a moment, she asked, "Is this true Your Majesties?"

"It is," Frigga nodded uncertainly. "We thought it would ease tensions and help you if he was not here during this ceremony."

"Ahh...and that has angered his supporters," Sigyn surmised. "I have wronged you, Lady Sif. I can see where you would be very angry at this turn of events. I, too, would be furious in your shoes." Sif could only blink in wonder and Sigyn's fury seemed to melt. "If Thor's lady were wroth with Loki or me to the point that we had to be separated when the entire family should be together to celebrate, I would feel...enraged." She shivered slightly—there were not words to describe how angry she would feel. She offered her hand again. "I...I am sorry to have so misjudged you. The entire family should have been together for this important day."

Sif sniffed angrily and only briefly touched Sigyn's hand before turning away. She could only glance at Frigga who was frowning sternly. Odin—_Thor's father_—she could not even meet his gaze.

"Is there more, Sif?" Odin asked finally.

"No, Your Majesty," Sif replied flatly.

"Then we will consider the matter closed," Odin decreed. Sif left quickly, feeling the need to be with Volstagg and to drink—lots. Fandral was with Thor—guarding the western gates. Hogun had lingered here under Thor's orders since ___this commoner _seemed most at ease with him. She had worked so hard—praising Thor's works and deeds, smoothing over his indiscretions, and keeping his name at the forefront of the Allfather's mind. Now it felt like she had lost much.

The door swished closed. No one said a word for a few moments. To Loki, it felt like his tongue was made of metal in truth for no sweet words or jest would come to him. To Frigga, it felt like she had finally found a boil of hatred—putrid and smelly—that needed lancing to be rid of its poison. What Odin felt no one knew.

Sigyn leaned heavily against the railing and finally moved to face the gardens. For lack of a better plan, Loki moved towards her, slowly. Her magic crackled lightly—tiny sparks of green and purple fire arcing between her hands as she wrung them. A light breeze carried his own scent and the scent of his dragon's blood soap to her.

"Loki," she sobbed. "I...I had no idea."

Loki wrapped his arms around her, stunned for a moment. He could not remember when someone had...defended his honor. When was the last time someone had taken his side? This was a rare and priceless jewel that he had no idea how to care for. "It's all right," he murmured.

"No—it's not," Sigyn insisted. "Were it not for me, your family would all be here and would be able to celebrate together. I am the one at fault..." Odin moved forward but Frigga held up her hand to stop him, watching carefully. "I should not have nursed my anger and hatred so. It has helped no one and harmed many." She sniffed, cursing silently as tears that could not be shed gathered in her throat. "It is not right—not ___just _that brothers could not be together this day." She turned slowly and faced Frigga and Odin. Her head was bowed in shame and she wrung her hands in agony. "I can only beg your pardon, Your Majesties, and offer that I will work to release my anger and hatred."

Odin swallowed heavily. He had not decided whether or not to bring her complaints to a court. He had dreaded even speaking to her about her wounds and accusations against Thor for fear he would have to find that those complaints had merit. It had felt like almost too much to hope for her to drop her complaints entirely.

"I forgive you, Sigyn," Odin said softly.

Frigga nodded and murmured, "I as well."

"Loki? My love, can you find it in your heart to forgive me as well?" Sigyn's hands froze—folded together so tightly that the knuckles were white. "I had not meant for my own hatred to split your family."

Loki's eyes seemed a bit misty and he could only say, "I do not know what to say..." He had—in his darker moments—considered bringing her complaints forward to the courts to forestall Thor the Great's march to the throne. It had felt like an extra, unexpected trick to be whipped out at the last moment. What this latest turn could mean, he had no idea.

"Brothers should not be separate," Sigyn insisted. "And their ladies should not be cornering each other on balconies."

"Sif? Thor's lady?" Frigga queried. She supposed that it was one explanation for how Sif did seem to accompany him everywhere and in everything. Yet, in looking at her eldest son, she had not seen the gleam in his eye when he looked at her—the gleam that said that he cared for her in return. Instead, she saw that he regarded her as—as another friend as much as Hogun, Volstagg and Fandral.

"Come, Loki," Odin smiled. "Your lady is correct. We should work to forgive past wrongs in each other—in our family."

"Agreed," Loki said.

Sigyn finally smiled wearily and took Loki's hand. "Thank you, my love." She curtsied deeply. "However, I believe it might be best to retire."

"But you still have not met the elvish ambassadors." It was all that Loki could think of to say.

Sigyn paused and then reluctantly nodded. "As you wish, my love." She tried to smile and then said, "Lead on."

Odin chuckled and tucked Frigga's hand in his arm. "I believe ___that _is the right idea."

So they returned together and Loki took her around the room, introducing her much as before. So many more names and voices swam past that Sigyn's head ached as much as her feet. Finally, she leaned closely to him and whispered in his ear, "I believe that I shall go mad if I am not allowed to rest soon."

Loki laughed, twirling a stem of wine in his hand. "I think that we can retire now." He led Sigyn up to the high table and they bid good night before leaving the feasting.

Loki told Sigyn all manner of bawdy jests and made every insinuation and invitation ever known to lead Sigyn to his own apartments rather than hers, but she drooped against him and simply went into her own. She smiled and promised him a more entertaining night the next evening and then went straight into Memnet's care. Memnet yawned and began hovering around Sigyn, undressing her and unpinning her hair and finally putting her to bed.

Loki stood out in the hallway, considering what to do next. The night was young by his own reckoning, and it was a sour thing to have exhausted Sigyn so much that she was unable to stay with him. Frowning, he wandered close to one of the libraries to find a book to study.

"Loki," Odin called to him from down the hallway. "I would speak with you."

Loki grimaced and went to the down the hallway. The Allfather and Frigga sat together on the couch with a plate of lemon cakes and two goblets of sweet wine on a small table near them. Odin smiled at his son and gestured towards a nearby chair.

"I can't tell you how proud I am of your Sigyn," he said. "I am impressed with her level-headed reasoning and I have rarely seen such a worthy display of fidelity."

Frigga nodded and reached towards a goblet to take a sip. "I confess that I had been worried that she would not fare well in the palace, but it seems to me that once she makes peace with Thor that all will indeed be well."

"She will flourish here," Odin smiled. "Make no mistake." He leaned forward towards Loki. "Now, we will move the wedding up so that there will be no doubting of her virtue in having a child so soon."

Loki managed to not look surprised. However his mind was racing as he rearranged his plans. "Oh? After that display, I doubt that anyone would entertain any such ideas..."

"Ah, yes," Odin nodded. "She did manage to keep the little...altercation discrete and handled it very well, I think. I am very favorably impressed."

Frigga nodded again in agreement. "We were thinking of moving it to a fortnight from now. That will give her time to make any last touches and changes to the wedding." Loki nodded. "I have no doubt that you did the right thing in bringing her here."

"We would have lost a precious jewel had the Jotens captured or harmed her," Odin agreed.

Loki only nodded again, feeling his head beginning to pound. He had managed to ignore that little problem for most of the day—they still had no idea why the Frost Giants had attacked or what had been so ___interesting _about Sigyn.

"Well done, my son," Odin smiled. "I had not thought..." He grimaced. "I had not even considered such a worthy woman as Sigyn could be found."

Loki agreed to the wedding plans—a fortnight was not much time, but as he had told Sigyn, his mother had had weeks to stew and plot and had apparently put it to good use. Besides, who knew when it would again be his turn in the golden light of adulation? "And what of the Frost Giant attacks?" he finally asked.

"We will post extra guards around her until the wedding," Odin decided after a moment.

Loki's brows lifted. "Only until the wedding?"

Odin sighed. "We will reconsider if there is another attack, of course."

"Do we even know ___why _they would attack? Why now? Why Sigyn?"

"To get to you perhaps?" Frigga asked softly. "Or to hold her hostage in exchange for some favor?"

"What if I went and simply asked them?" Loki finally asked. There might yet be a way to salvage peace—he certainly did not want the threat of Joten attacks on Sigyn weighing over his head for all time.

"They would not tell you," Odin answered firmly.

Loki smiled and waved his hands. "Oh I agree that they would not say were I to simply walk in and ask the first Jotun I see-'Say, can you tell me why Sigyn of Asgard has been attacked?'. But I have been known to find even the hidden information—from time to time."

"I forbid it," Odin said in a dry voice. "Those who have attacked us have paid for it with their lives. And even knowing why the attacks have started, would that prevent us from one single battle?"

"It might," Loki nodded. "It might make us better prepared."

"I don't think that the slim possibility that we _might _be better prepared should overshadow the distinct danger of all out war should your little foray fail." Odin smirked a bit at Frigga then turned back to Loki. "Not to mention that Sigyn needs you here."

Loki sat back, not really looking at anything. The events were entirely too convenient for him to stomach. Odin and Frigga watched as he brooded. Finally he said, "What if I lead in a small group? I cloak them in magic and we simply sit and listen?"

"No, Loki," Odin said softly. "We will guard your lady carefully here. There is no reason to start a war if we do not have to."

Loki shot a tired glare at his father and nodded. "I will take my leave then." Without waiting for a reply, he left the room and went back to the library to find his book.

Sigyn awoke refreshed. For a moment, she thought that she had overslept and needed to tend the goats and chickens, but then she remembered all that had happened. The memories and impressions overwhelmed her like an onslaught of arrows.

Sighing, she stirred and finally stood. Inching her way around the bed and across the room, she made her way to the closet and the room beyond. Slowly she dressed and for once her stomach made no early morn protest. With patience, she began pacing—trying to figure out where everything was in relation to everything else. She had not found a way to do this except to pace and count, pace and count. Ten steps from the bed to the wall, fifteen from the bed to the windows and thirteen steps from this door to the that door.

Memnet came in yawning and bearing a platter of fruit, a wedge of cheese and some sweet bread along with a cup of water and a cup of milk. "My lady—you should have rung for us. We would have come in to aid you."

Sigyn smiled at the older woman. "You have taken such good care of me, I didn't want to..."

"Oh it's all right, dear," Memnet said. "Such a big day yesterday a body might be deserving of rest and some time alone."

"That is true," Sigyn nodded, allowing Memnet to lead her to the sitting area and on the couch.

"Now, we have some lovely grapes and apples, some cheese and fresh nut bread straight from the ovens along with butter and honey." Memnet guided her hands to the tray. "Then we'll get you up and around a bit more and you'll feel right as rain."

Memnet began herding everyone around, gather up the lotions and pins and heaven only knew what else. Sigyn nibbled at the breakfast and was surprised to find that her stomach did not heave.

"You'll be needing your strength, my lady," Memnet said over her shoulder. "Dressmakers will be attending you today to get you fitted. Tomorrow bakers will be lined up to see which cake you like the best." She nodded to herself. "You've got to keep your strength for the babe."

Sigyn almost choked. "Baby? Who told you that?"

Memnet chuckled. "Well...the servants were all buzzing around last night and the rumor started that there was a babe. But it wasn't until the Lady Sif stomped through demanding ale and—well, _shrieking _that we knew for sure."

"Sif?" Sigyn asked. "_Oh._"

"Indeed," Memnet nodded. In her most stern voice she said. "And now there's no bottling it back up. His Highness has agreed to make the wedding in a fortnight and we will all be busy from now until then getting ready. So, eat well and rest often." She tilted her head. "I don't suppose anyone has suggested a visit to the midwife?"

"No," Sigyn said sadly. "They haven't... Yet."

"Well, if you have questions, then I'll arrange my cousin to come here to visit. She's been a midwife for many years. However, I would say that Her Majesty, Queen Frigga, could also be asked. She has been a healer here at the palace ever since she was crowned, not to mention that she has birthed and raised the princes so well."

"I see," Sigyn said, though she didn't. Her mind buzzed so. Was Loki wounded at the rumors that were facts? Were Frigga or Odin worried about Loki's reputation that they moved the wedding so close? She sighed and put down the goblet, suddenly feeling unable to eat. "I do not see that it would harm anyone to visit both the queen and the midwife."

Memnet nodded. "And then as soon as you are married, we will need to find nurses and the like to lend you a helping hand with the little one."

"What will I be doing?" Sigyn laughed.

"You'll be hearing petitions for this and that," Memnet scolded. "You may be asked to bring suggestions before the king and to organize banquets and feasts of your own. Not to mention going around and..." She waved her hands in the air, trying to find something else. "-doing things with Queen Frigga. So you must find nurses and wet nurses and tutors to help you in the years ahead." Sigyn's mind boggled and she must have looked shocked and dismayed. "Heavens child! I'll not abandon you." Memnet reached out and petted her hand. "We'll do this one day at a time—and for today, we will be measured for dresses."

Sigyn leaned back and nibbled her bread, considering the host of things she was now apparently going to be responsible for. The cheese and apples tasted savory and tart—a pleasant combination—and the milk was welcome as always. Memnet herded the little crew of maids around—making the bed, picking out shoes and today's dress, laying out slippers and a hastily procured robe as well as a new chemise. Then she helped Sigyn wash her face and fasten her hair back into a simple braid that was coiled and then covered by a snood of fine lace.

It seemed the shortest of times before there was a knock at the door. Frigga swept in, along with two other women—the dressmaker and her assistant. Within a trice, Sigyn was stood up in her chemise and being skillfully measured.

Frigga was smiling and speaking softly with the assistant, going over the sketches of dresses and dress ideas. It was a pity that Sigyn could not see the dresses, Frigga decided silently. "___It must make her feel rather like a doll being dressed by a child,__" _she thought as she discarded a creation that looked more like a confection than an outfit.

Another short knock sounded at the door and Frigga stood to answer it. Loki looked at her with a half-smile on his lips. "Mother," he greeted. "How nice to see you!"

"Oh, no you don't!" Frigga sniffed with dramatic exaggeration. "A lady's room while she is dressing is no place for a gentleman."

_"__And that is supposed to stop me?" _Loki wondered silently as he gave Frigga a roguish smile. "I but came to visit the Lady Sigyn."

"Loki!" Sigyn called with a giggle. "Is that you? Let me get dressed and then come in. You will have to tell me of the drawings of the dresses, as I cannot see them."

Loki smiled his most innocent smile at Frigga. "It seems the lady disagrees with you."

"Never mind," the dressmaker chuckled. "We are done with the measurements. Memnet, why don't you take her into the dressing room and we'll go over the sketches?"

Memnet sprang into action, holding the robe wide behind Sigyn and led her to the closet to get dressed. Frigga rolled her eyes with maternal devotion and let Loki come in. The dressmaker and assistant compiled their notes and ideas in quiet tones as they began bringing out swatches of fabric samples.

Sigyn crept in, lead by Memnet and was seated on a chair.

"Now, my lady," the dressmaker said. "We will begin selection of the dresses. I have been told that the silk dress I made you fit well and now we have exact measurements to create whatever you would like." She gestured to the assistant who picked up her papers and waited for direction. "What sort of clothing do you require?"

Loki stood behind Sigyn's chair and dropped a casual hand to her shoulder. Sigyn swallowed heavily and frowned. "I suppose..a few dresses. Plain ones for every day."

Frigga about choked. "Surely more than a few?" she said. She looked at Loki.

"We'll need just about everything," Loki said with a grand gesture. "But with generous seams to allow for the child to grow."

"A child?" the stuffy, grandmotherly seamstress said as the assistant recorded the note. "I see. Generous seams will allow for growth and with the high waist of some of the styles, there will be no problem." She stared at Sigyn for a moment. "I have sketches of several types of dresses—ones for daily wear, special occasions, and so on. I will describe them-"

"I will describe them," Loki interrupted smoothly. He glanced down at Sigyn. "Unless you object, I will help you with the choices."

"Not at all," Sigyn demurred. "I am...overwhelmed."

Loki looked at the first sketch and frowned. "No—too fussy." He took the next sketch. "This would look all right if you do not use too ornate a fabric. What have you in...linen?" He examined the few swatches and chose fabrics and colors. Three more sketches were discarded. Another was approved in soft green velvet. A third was approved in mahogany satin. He flipped through the entire stock of drawings, altering some, approving some and discarding some outright. He chose all manner of fabrics—velvet, satin, silks, fine wool, and more. Underthings were chosen—some in naturally translucent muslin and some others were dyed to go with the dresses chosen. Sigyn's mind whirled as the dresses were chosen, along with night frills and robes and so on. She was able to feel several of the swatches of fabric—though she had no notion of the colors—and could only hope that Loki and Frigga would be kind in choosing things that flattered her.

Frigga was peculiarly silent. Her son, as she had suspected, was gifted in choosing flattering colors and fabrics and styles. He had always had a certain flare for such things. Yet, it seemed that Sigyn was not consulted at all—she could scarcely touch a fabric before it was chosen and the next one presented. She frowned, determined to set this aright for the wedding dress.

The dressmaker was astounded as Loki chose the wardrobe. She had brought a little of everything—hoping to sell a few dresses to the women in the palace. Instead, she was providing an entire wardrobe—and a lavish one—to none less than the future princess of Asgard. The chick looked dazed as descriptions flitted past her. She glanced at the nervous assistant who was scrambling to finish the notes—which dress was ordered with gold embroidery and which one had the fox cuffs—and hoped that she had kept up.

"Now, for the wedding," Loki said as he discarded the last sketch. "I should like-"

"Loki, no," Frigga said impatiently. "You have done enough. Sigyn will choose the dress..."

"Mother," Loki said impatiently, looking at a rather lavish sketch. "There simply isn't time..."

"Not time for the _bride _to choose her dress?!" Frigga scoffed. She tried smiling and said reasonably. "I appreciate that you wish to take care of Sigyn, but really—it's ___her _choice. And it's ill luck to see the dress before the wedding day."

Sigyn felt Loki's hand tense and grip her shoulder tightly. He said evenly, "And what sort of luck is it for the bride ___not to see _the dress?" He shot an emerald glare at his mother and then seemed to reconsider whatever he had been about to say. With a self-effacing grimace, he said to Sigyn. "My love—have I overstepped my boundaries?"

"N-n-no," she stuttered, her fingers flowing over a sample of satin. "I had no preference and in sooth could not have chosen." She smiled wryly. "You know my preferences—simple and plain."

"But you are now a princess," he said lightly. Picking up her hand with the fabric, he kissed her knuckles. "Do you favor this fabric?"

"I only know that it feels cool and smooth as water in a deep pool," Sigyn flushed. "I think that you called it satin." She felt it slightly. "But what color is it?"

"Red," Loki answered.

"Oh," Sigyn said, disappointed. She loved listening to his voice—to the impossible, flowery descriptions that he laved on the most commonplace items as one spreads jam thick over bread.

"I thought that a dress like this one would be suitable," Loki said, plucking a sketch up. He drew her fingers over the outline. "There are two layers here, showing perhaps ivory embroidery with pearls on the second layer. Note how the embroidery curls here? And the sleeves would be slashed here to show the embroidered ones beneath and tied with ivory silk thread. There is a train with embroidery as well. And the neckline would go down like a heart, here."

Sigyn gaped as she tried to picture the dress in her head. "This is...too much, my lordly love. It would beggar all of Asgard to make, surely?"

Loki grinned at her. She had no concept of the wealth of Asgard and that charmed him. "Not so much, my love." He kissed her knuckles again. "Do you like this one?"

"Your Majesty—tell me, what do you think of this?" Sigyn asked.

Frigga looked at the drawing. It seemed almost completely unlike the sketches that had been produced, yet it was a stylish and flattering dress. "It is lovely," she said without emphasis. "Yet, is it what you want?"

Sigyn thought hard for a moment. "It sounds beautiful." How long ago had it been when she had dreamed of being married? How long ago—when she had been able to see the pretty ladies in the streets and had played as a child in the dusty alleyway behind her father's quarters? She had discarded those dreams so long ago it felt like another lifetime. "If you both think it would be acceptable, then I will trust in your judgment." She felt the piece of fabric in her fingers again. "Could it be made out of this? Perhaps not red-"

"Green," Loki said, rolling the sketch up and handing it to the dressmaker. "It will be in emerald green."

The dressmaker looked at the fabric. She would be hard pressed, but it could be done. "As you wish, if it pleases the bride?"

"As my lord says," Sigyn nodded. She surrendered the swatch and it was attached to the sketch.

Loki nodded and dismissed the dressmaker and her assistant with a wave of his hand. They began to gather their things—the sketches, the fabrics, and the measurements.

"Wait," Sigyn called. "Please...just a moment."

The two women stopped at the door and came back. "How may we be of service?"

"Please—tell me you names," Sigyn asked softly.

"I am Hedda and this is my assistant, Rowan," said the dressmaker curiously.

"I...I am flattered that you have come to me," Sigyn flushed. "It was very kind of you—especially since I am sure that you are very successful and very busy." She laughed at herself. "I hope that soon that I can visit your store and you will not be called all the way here."

"It was no problem," Hedda assured her with a curious look. "We are glad to be of service."

"Still, I hope that it has not been too much trouble. It seems that we have occupied all of your time this morning. I hope to learn more about Asgard and perhaps be able to visit you again." She smiled widely. "I will tell all who ask of your kindness and patience. Especially with eager and protective husbands." Hedda and Rowan chuckled with Sigyn, though they were more nervous than relaxed. "My thanks."

They bowed out, eager to be back at their shop. Every other dressmaker would be envious with such a commission. And to think that the lady had ___thanked _them for their trouble when they should have been thanking her.

Frigga shooed Loki out and let Sigyn nap. It was after midday when the women went out together, purchasing hats, gloves and such. A warm cloak of blue-green quilted satin with a brown velvet lining and a deep hood was another purchase. Finally they came to a small shop that featured necessary items for an infant. Frigga led the way inside, guiding Sigyn to a small couch expressly placed for women who were heavy with child to rest on.

"You Majesty," came a melodious voice. "It has been many years since you visited my mother's shop. How may I be of service?"

"This is my daughter-to-be, Sigyn. We should like to see what you have for small boys."

"Oh? And when is the happy occasion?"

Sigyn frowned and gestured helplessly. "I regret that it will be a surprise to even me. We...well...we had not thought-"

"Ahh...a wonderful surprise, indeed. Now, I shall bring out what I have already made and my apprentice will bring you refreshments."

Frigga apparently could visit with shopkeepers and go through many shops without rest, but Sigyn was exhausted by the time they had picked out blankets, a pile of nappies, and other essentials. This shopkeeper was almost blatantly curious, continually asking questions. The apprentice brought out an immense platter of pastries and tiny sandwiches, goblets, pitchers of wine, cool water and chilled sweetened milk. It was pleasant to speak with the other women about such personally intimate things—how to hold a child, how to give milk, how to do all the things that mothers must learn to do. The apprentice was sent out to fetch the local midwife—Memnet's cousin—who came in short order. With a bemused tone, she gently answered Sigyn's questions and offered suggestions.

"-now garlic may sour your milk. If your babe does not care for it, he may miss a feeding until it is gone. Do not worry though—not a babe yet has starved himself to death." The midwife stopped for a moment to take a hearty draft of water. "Your babe will help you learn what to do and will adore you as much as Prince Loki does."

Sigyn flushed. Frigga was not being shy about announcing her condition. Far from it—she was proudly announcing it to all. "I am almost afraid of the birth—it sounds so...messy and painful." Her hands curled around her goblet tightly to keep from shaking.

"Ahh, but it is the payment for all the sweetness before," the midwife chuckled. "And never fear. My cousin Memnet works in the palace. When it is time she will call for me if you allow it and I will attend your births."

"Memnet works with me—she is helping me in the palace," Sigyn offered in relief.

"Then there will be no delay. And don't be afraid to walk or move to be comfortable! Too many women will lie abed as though the babe would walk in and introduce himself. If you are comfortable abed, then do so, but it may help you to walk, to sit or rock in a rocking chair. Don't be afraid to experiment!

"And don't be afraid of letting your husband know what you need—even if you need him to leave for a while." The midwife chuckled again. "It will not be the first time that a husband has dithered and been more nervous than the mother. I will ask them then to go find a companion to drink with if they cannot soothe and help."

Sigyn frowned, uncertain of what Loki's reaction would be. "I do not know..."

"That is fine. Fine. We will find out at the time and not a moment before. And this will be in the babe's own time."

The shopkeeper giggled. "And cherish this time when the child is within because it will be too soon when you will rush about wondering where he is and what he is doing—particularly if it is quiet."

Everyone except Sigyn laughed. They had all gone through the periods with their children when silence was more dread than noise. Sigyn smiled uncertainly.

It was a relief when Frigga stood and thanked the women for their time and paid them. Sigyn stood, fumbling for the immense bag that they had insisted she purchase and the piles of purchases.

"Don't worry about that Sigyn," Frigga said softly. "They will be delivered and after the wedding, you can choose the room for the nursery where we will put them."

It was almost dinner time when they arrived back at the palace. Almost immediately Frigga was distracted with someone needing her attention and she had a servant lead Sigyn to her apartment. Memnet clucked and fluttered around her, advising her to rest while someone fetched the masseuse. The masseuse came in and rubbed Sigyn's feet and legs as Memnet redid her hair and placed a less formal veil over her face. Then there was a knock and yet another servant led her to the small dining hall where the family had gathered.

Sigyn swallowed heavily, hearing all too familiar voices. Thor and Sif were speaking quietly and then silenced as she passed. There was a loud, boisterous voice proclaiming the virtues of every dish and a smoother voice—addressed as "Fandral" by the booming voice—making jests. Sigyn simply sat at the place she was led. She stood as Frigga and Odin entered and bade everyone sit. The place to her right felt empty and Loki's smooth voice was nowhere to be heard. Odin began making small talk about armies and battles and servants began to serve each plate. Sigyn took a small portion from some of the platters, but felt her appetite dwindling.

Then there was silence through the whole table. Leather boots came tapping in and Loki said, "Good eventide, Mother. Good eventide, Father."

He sat at Sigyn's right and served himself some of the pheasant.

"I am honored to drink to the health and long life of my sister to be," Thor said at last, raising his cup.

"Here, here," most everyone agreed.

"Sigyn," Frigga said. "Are you not feeling well? Or perhaps there is something you would prefer to eat?"

"I am well," Sigyn said, picking at the food. "Simply...overwhelmed by the generous welcome that I have been granted."

"I insist that you feel my child well," Loki said, adding a cut of pork to her plate.

Sigyn grinned at him. "Your child has dined well beyond my wildest imaginings today. Her Majesty—" The title stumbled out of her mouth as she tried to figure out what to say. "—took me shopping and to visit the midwife and we were so well received that I am hard pressed to hold another bite."

"Still," Loki said, picking at his own plate. "I will not have the babe scrawny because—"

"That's enough, Loki!" Frigga chided. "Sigyn may not know that you tease." She glanced at the younger woman. "And please, call me 'Frigga' if you do not feel that you should call me 'Mother' as Loki does."

"As you wish, Mother," Sigyn said. "However, I think that I will call again to that shop and get the recipe for their sweetened milk."

"Is it safe to venture alone?" Loki asked seriously. "Perhaps someone should accompany you-"

"Brother," Thor chuckled softly. "She but goes to the market—not to war."

There was a collective gasp as an arc of magic flitted around Sigyn. She picked up the goblet and took a hearty swallow and sat it down again with exaggerated care. After a moment, the arc flickered out.

Sigyn flushed darkly and pressed her napkin to her mouth. "I'm so sorry..."

Loki put a firm hand on her thigh under the table. "Breathe pet," he said softly into her ear. "Just breathe."

Sigyn panted for a moment and felt her chest ease. Reaching out with care, she took the goblet and gestured towards Loki for a refill. Then, in the uncomfortable silence, she tried to speak peacefully. "I am...unfamiliar with many of you..."

The Warriors Three each introduced themselves, speaking with measured tones. Sif only nodded and said her name, taking hearty swallows of wine.

"I am Thor." Thor smiled at her. She was pretty in her own way if one did not look too closely at her face. And Loki hovered over her like a hen with one chick. "I am glad to welcome you into the family."

A little spark popped at Sigyn's hand. "I'm sorry—I'm truly working to control that." She smiled at Loki. "But I am glad that the entire family is reunited."

Loki smiled back thinly. He wanted to brood or pace, but the idea that ___his _woman be left with Thor beaming at her made his blood chill. "Of course, my love. One big family."

Sif grimaced. "I had doubts that you knew the meaning of the word 'family'."

Loki glared at her only briefly before focusing again on Sigyn. Sigyn felt him press a soft, warm roll into her hand and she said thoughtfully, "I am told that 'family' will have an entirely new definition when the babe is born." She took a bit of the bread. "But as I have spoken of little else but dresses and babies all day, I should like to hear of the other things that have happened... For example, what is this marvelous bird dish?"

This prompted a lengthy discourse from Volstagg on the honeyed chicken and rice, the stuffed dates, the pastries. Fandrall and Thor spoke briefly on their brief foray—there was no activity to report on the western front. Sif said little. Thor's report prompted merry memories of other battles, which were toasted as victories and quite soon everyone was chatting comfortably.

Sigyn sighed, replete. She turned to Loki and asked, "And what of _your _victories?"

Abruptly the entire table went silent again. "Loki's victories?" Sif scoffed.

"Sif," Frigga warned.

"I'm sure that there were many," Sigyn smiled, trying to hide a yawn. "Many times some interesting strategy won the day." She chuckled softly. "When one feels the size of a walrus, one tends to be interested in ways to outwit an opponent rather than out-fight."

Loki laughed—a little. "Hardly the size of a walrus."

She smiled. "Hmmm... I will not press you for details if you do not wish to discuss them." She shuddered. "However, I would like time to discuss whatever defense you feel I need. The Frost Giant attack is still near in my thoughts." She swallowed, thinking of how close to annihilation she had come.

"No need to fear," Loki said lightly reaching out to stroke her hand.

"Indeed, fair lady," Fandral agreed. "We will all protect you."

Hogun grunted in agreement while Volstagg simply muttered, "Here. Here."

Thor added seriously, "Sister, I will protect you and the babe as though you were my own."

Loki glanced at Sif. For a moment the venom seemed to ooze out as she glared at Thor and Sigyn. He cocked a grin and placed his hand on Sigyn's, amused.

"I am deeply honored," Sigyn said finally. "But all of Asgard must be your concern as well and I would not add burdens to your shoulders if I can help it."

"The palace is well fortified," Sif added almost absently. "Our outer wall is a marvel and strong enough to withstand Frost Giants. The giant who built it had demanded the sun and the moon and Freya. Loki estimated the effort to build the thing at 3 years, so he said that we should constrain the building time to a month. At the end of the month the wall was all but complete and the Allfather sent Loki out to discover why this was so. The giant's steed—an enormous stallion—was doing the work of a thousand. So, Loki had changed himself into a mare and tempted the stallion away from his duties." She shot a look of amused venom at Loki. "Apparently he did such a marvelous impression of a horse's ass it led to the birth of Sleipnir."

Loki almost choked. He hated the outermost wall—hated the role he had played in its creation. But then he caught Sigyn's wonder-filled expression.

"How...amazing," she said. "I would have never considered such a ploy and I would have lost the sun and moon and Freya." She shifted and squeezed Loki's hand, ignoring Sif's gasp. "I am impressed at the clever planning in such a scheme."

Odin thought for a moment. "Sleipnir is my favorite steed as well. He is swift, sure-footed—"

"And stubborn as an ox," Thor laughed. To Sigyn, he added, "The creature was so incensed at having a bridle and saddle on top of him the first time that he threw Father into a thicket and then single-handedly defeated three ogres who sought to take advantage just to prove his contrary nature."

Everyone laughed at that—even Sif. Sigyn could not help but yawn and, of course, Loki noticed. "Sigyn, are you feeling well?" He frowned at her. "You have not yet tasted the pork or the fruits..."

"Just sleepy," she yawned again. "I feel as though I went all through Asgard today." She shrugged. "I know that I haven't been through most of it, but I seem to grow weary more frequently now."

"An early night might do you well, Sigyn," Frigga nodded. "I admit that I was having such fun that I did not consider that it might tire you. I apologize for your exhaustion."

Sigyn smiled a bit wickedly. "I will forgive you so long as you show me where you bought the lovely chocolate covered fruits." She flushed. "I regret that Hogun and I—" Hogun grunted in protest and Sigyn flushed. "OK, ___I _ate what was left at the island and if it is reasonable, I should like to have more."

Loki laughed. "After my appointments tomorrow, I will take you there myself." Sigyn grinned and started to speak and he silenced her with a finger to her lips. "So long as you rest tomorrow morning. If you are up to it after we break our fast, I will take you to the baths, but then _rest._"

Sigyn only nodded.

Frigga pouted dramatically. "Well, I suppose that I should arrange for the wedding feast tomorrow. The bakers can be brought in the day after, if it is agreeable."

"We are well set to have the wedding," Odin agreed.

Volstagg sighed in appreciation. "I love weddings."

"You mean you love wedding ___feasts_, my friend," Fandral drawled.

"That too," Volstagg nodded.

"And the flowers," Frigga said to herself. "We will need to figure out the flowers."

"Later," Loki said, standing. "If you would excuse us, Mother, I would see that Sigyn goes to bed and rests well." Frigga nodded absently and Odin smiled with a decidedly roguish grin. "If you would send a servant with a platter—perhaps some cheese and fruits—in case Sigyn hungers in the night."

Without much further ado, Loki hustled her out and ushered her to her apartment. "My love, I urge caution when you speak of weddings and such. Mother will keep you occupied for hours if not days on these things and my son needs you well."

Sigyn grinned and pressed against him. "I will be well. You would have nothing less." She sighed. "But there is one thing..."

"Only one?"

"Indeed," she smiled. "I should like to-" Her hand trailed down his chest to his waist in a wistful fashion.

"Ahh..." Loki grinned and shut the bedroom door behind them. "I see..."

And so it was considerably later when he slipped out. The tray that he had asked for was in the sitting area, along with a pitcher of milk. He snapped up an apple and left silently.

The next morning, Sigyn reached in the immense bed and found Loki's place cold. Frowning, she sat up and called out to him softly, not truly expecting a response. Memnet came in and helped her dress and if she found it odd that Sigyn was clad only in a hastily gathered quilt, she made no mention of it.

The breakfast was as casual and friendly as the dinner the night before. Sif had found some other duty pressing that morning, but the Warriors Three were up and around, chuckling over shared memories and happiness. Odin and Frigga strayed in later, gazing moon-eyed at each other. Loki fetched Sigyn and brought her to the same place at the table, serving her boiled eggs, cheese, smoked strips of venison, thick slices of bread with jam smeared across them and oat stirabout.

Sigyn laughed as she tried to find some place to set her cup. "Loki, you are a rogue," she teased. "To set before me such bounty and not leave room for so much as a thought before me." She finally found an empty place for the cup and began to nibble the bread.

Everyone took portions of the food, relishing the bounty of Asgard. Apparently today was the appointed day for the princes to hear the concerns of the land. Loki usually took up the late afternoon and evenings while Thor usually took the morning.

"Yet, where is Thor?" Frigga wondered.

Fandral looked at Volstagg and laughed heartily. "He will rise anon, Your Majesty. When we retired he had found a good skin of wine and a lovely maid to spend time with."

Odin's eye rolled. "I suppose that it is good that ___one _of my sons has sensibly settled down to a good lady."

Loki almost choked again at this compliment. Granted, it wasn't the constant hailing of his name as Odin was wont to do Thor's, but he relished it just the same. He glanced at Sigyn, his silent brooding not so dark. Finally he said, "I will do the morning roster, Father."

"Oh Loki—you promised Sigyn that you would take her to the baths," Frigga chided absently.

"No!" Sigyn protested. Then she flushed, realizing how her voice boomed in the small room. "No—Loki is right that the concerns of Asgard come first and foremost." She tipped a saucy smile at him. "Besides, it would then leave us the whole of the evening for me to explore this wonder."

"Eager to be rid of me?" Loki teased back.

"No," Sigyn smiled. "Eager for you to be done so that I have your company again."

Thor slunk in at this, holding his head. "Mother, Father-" he grimaced and lowered his voice. "I...I feel unwell."

"Loki has already volunteered for the morning roster," Odin chided. "You would do well to rest so that you can cover the evening concerns."

Thor nodded and tipped a horn to his brother in thanks. Without much more than a crust of bread in his hand, he wandered out again.

Volstagg laughed heartily. "That will teach him to not try to drink a bar maid under the table!" Fandrall and Hogun agreed.

"You both are bad influences," Frigga fired back. Yet, her voice held not so much rancor as gentle reprimand. "You should be encouraging him to follow his brother's example and settle down with a good woman." She wrinkled her nose. "Not...a _barmaid._"

Sigyn paled at that. If a barmaid was so low, what was she? She reached for Loki's hand, squeezing it lightly. "My love, if you would escort me to my room, I will rest and leave you to your duties."

"Of course," Loki nodded. "I must leave quickly anyway."

"I will do it, Loki," Frigga said. "You hurry on." Loki looked about to speak and she gave him a distinctly maternal look. "I will deliver her to her room and allow Memnet to take care of her, if you do not trust me."

"Oh, I trust you, Mother," Loki said evenly with a straight face. "I trust you to spend every breath with questions about the wedding." He cocked a smile at Sigyn. "Go straight to your bedroom and to bed to rest. The child will be here quickly enough without you hurrying him by scurrying everywhere and I don't want him to be the first to be born landing on his head in the street."

Sigyn tried to laugh at that image. "I will rest, but surely there is some small chore that I can do afterward. I...I like to be useful."

"You are carrying my heir," he replied. "There is nothing else that should be more important."

Sigyn nodded obediently and he led her to Frigga who was smiling serenely. When he had left, Frigga stood and bid them all good morning. Each one stood and returned good wishes for a good day as the pair left.

Sigyn was surprised when Frigga took her outside. "Surely the apartments are the other way, Mother?" Frigga smiled to herself and continued leading Sigyn to the walled garden. Once they opened the door, a rooster crowed and the sound of goats could be heard. "Mother, what have you done?"

Billy goat, Nanny goat and Gran-nanny goat were penned in a makeshift pen to one side with a deep trough of water. The rooster and his chicken floated around the garden, continually scratching up grubs and worms. The pots still stood to one side, but now a small collection of hand tools was carefully stored in a water tight pot nearby for her use.

"Oh this is wonderful!" Sigyn cheered, petting her animals again. "I had thought that perhaps someone would adopt them—if they lived at all—but I am so glad that they are here."

For perhaps two hours, Sigyn simply walked in the garden, pacing out her territory with her goats and birds somewhat following behind. Frigga sat at the bench, enjoying the sun and speaking every so often of flowers and gardens and the like. Sigyn finally joined her, sighing in comfort at the sun warmed stone bench.

"I had hoped that this would help you feel at home," Frigga smiled.

"I truly loved the garden and taking care of the animals," Sigyn nodded, trailing her fingers in the water fountain's bowl. "It was something accomplished without sight."

"Whenever you feel the urge, the pots are for your flowers and plants. We have larger gardens, but those are more for food than pleasure."

Sigyn shrugged. "I look forward—in the future—to visiting them. Though it will take me time to become useful in a new garden."

"You are a lady of leisure now," Frigga advised, watching Sigyn bask in the sunlight. "You can afford to relax some. Not every moment that Odin has made need be spent in work."

"Ahh, but I have already spent more time in leisure during my stay than I have in three years," Sigyn giggled. "It is hard to give up the habit."

"Sigyn," Frigga said seriously. "I would like to ask you something."

Sigyn sat up reluctantly. The warm sun beat down on her until every memory of chill was erased from her bones. But the very heat made her lethargic. "What is it?" she replied softly.

"Odin and I were considering what to give you for a wedding gift-"

"Oh, no, please. I have already received so much from you." Sigyn blushed. "And I offer little in return."

"We still would like to give you this gift." Frigga shifted uncomfortably. "He and I thought that you might like to visit the healers here to see if there was anything that perhaps they could do for you." She shrugged. "And if not, our gift would be the illusion of a flawless countenance. It would not be sight, but your scars would not show."

Sigyn gaped. "I...didn't even think that it was possible..." She laughed shortly. "I hadn't even thought to ask Loki." She flushed suddenly. "Is he...ashamed? Does he fear for me to show my face because of the scars?"

Frigga blanched. She truly did not know. She had only seen how sometimes people reacted poorly—cringing or staring—and had decided that the young woman deserved more than that. Odin knew that a lifetime with Loki's moods and brooding was worthy of reward.

Sigyn felt a scream building in her throat as she took Frigga's silence as an affirmative. "I see... I—he had not said that he was so ashamed." She stood resolutely. "Excuse me, Mother. I must leave."

Frigga stumbled up to go with her. "But Sigyn—in sooth, this is a small thing. We had thought it would worry you-"

Sigyn made her way, stumbling past Frigga, to one of the doorways. Signaling a passing guard, she whispered softly to him and tucked her hand into his arm. The guard glanced at the Queen who could only nod sadly and watch as she was led away.

Sigyn stopped briefly at her apartments—long enough to have Memnet fetch her new blue-green cloak. Pulling up the hood, she bade the guard to lead her to where Loki was holding audience. Unlike the big, smelly brute that Loki had teased her with, this one was only a few inches taller than she was and led her easily through the palace.

The waiting chamber was empty save for the last three souls. A tired clerk merely noted her presence and gestured to a bench. The guard let her sit down and stood over her. Time passed slowly and Sigyn felt a chilly knot form in her belly as she waited. It seemed ages before each petitioner was called and the heavy door would swing open and the previous would come out, allowing the next to enter.

Sigyn was the last one—alone—when a page came out to announce that Prince Loki had concluded his audiences for today. Sigyn started and rose. The guard collected himself and led her to the clerk.

"Prince Thor will be here shortly," the clerk said. "You'll be undoubtedly better served waiting for him."

"Please—allow me to see Prince Loki," Sigyn asked, trying to fight the cry in her throat.

He rolled his eyes. "If you wish, miss, I can announce you, but you'll find the Prince is in a foul temper." Thankfully, he was as good as his word and announced her.

The guard led her inside the huge chamber. The cloak brushed against an immense stone pillar three times before they stopped.

Loki stood on a raised dais with his desk covered in the notes and papers that he had to sort through to conclude the business of the day. Scowling, he snapped, "I have concluded audience today."

Sigyn felt her knees wobble and she dropped into a curtsy to hide their faltering. "My lord...a moment only."

Loki's jaw gritted. He had been only half paying attention today, wondering if Sigyn was resting or if she had allowed Frigga to carry her off again. Now he wondered at this soft voice, muffled in the deep hood that sounded so like hers. "Then spit it out—I have little time for games."

Sigyn felt the guard leave and heard him retreat and the door close behind him. Standing firmly she said, "My lord...can you grant me a small favor?"

Loki cocked an eyebrow and glanced at the guards stationed around the room. As expected, the one on the right winked with his right eye—a signal that he expected Loki to turn this one away with nothing—and the one on the left nod ever so slightly. "What is this favor?"

"My husband... I believe that he is ashamed of my appearance and I would do him honor. Can you help me?" Sigyn felt breathless as she remembered the pretend on the island.

Loki smiled. "Are you not more interested in hearing whether or not the husband is actually ashamed? Or if he prefers you as you are?" He stood importantly—unknowingly mimicking Odin's stance when he was delivering a particularly important lecture. "Or is it vanity speaking?"

"My lord, my husband is very important," Sigyn smiled. "I know that many flock to his side and seek his attention. I would only seek to do him honor and not discourage the blessing of his fidelity with this face of mine."

Loki's smile grew into cat-like confidence. "I may not help you. Indeed—what do you offer me?"

Sigyn pulled back her hood. "I offer you my gratitude and fidelity."

"Sigyn," Loki said. "Did you truly come all the way here to see if I were straying from your side?"

"No. I already know that you have spent the day far more wisely than I. But I would know if this face of mine makes you ashamed."

Loki came forward—astounding the guards. Apparently both of them would lose their wagers tonight. He took Sigyn's hands in his own and swept her close to him. "And what brought this on?"

"Frigga and—I mean, Their Majesties wished to gift me with a countenance that would please you." She shrugged. "I still would not be able to see, but others would not see me as I am and would not shun you for it."

Loki chuckled. As if any would shun him for the mere looks of his wife. They shunned him already in favor of Thor. Yet still, some still sought his advice out. And some came forward simply curious at the rumors spreading like wildfire. "It is as you wish it. If it does not bother you, then I have no quarrel with your face."

Sigyn nodded and kissed his face gently. "My thanks, _my lord_."

Loki nodded at the guards and led Sigyn out. The guard who had escorted her in was dismissed quickly and the clerks rotated out so that Thor's shift could continue. Some had gathered to see Thor specifically and were amazed to see Loki escorting the smiling lady out.

They were meandering down the hallway and met Thor as he came to the audience room. He smiled at them and said softly, "Brother, Sister—I hope that you have a good evening."

"We will," Loki purred, pulling Sigyn closer. "But there is quite a crowd gathering and awaiting you."

"I will hurry," Thor laughed. "Although I would avoid Mother today—tonight, rather. She is upset over some matter and fretting."

"The wedding?" Loki asked absently, petting Sigyn's hand.

"Perhaps, but I think not." Thor shrugged. "But she will not speak to me of it."

Sigyn laughed softly as Thor ambled away. "I suppose that I should speak to her—beg her pardon for leaving her in the garden so suddenly."

"Let her fret," Loki smiled. "She is happily fretting over the wedding anyway, so we may as well not try to stop her." He pulled her close. "Besides, I have spent the whole day thinking about...this." His lips grazed her neck.

Sigyn couldn't help but giggle. "I am equally eager. But here?"

Loki laughed. "No one will see us, love." He kissed her hand and gently undid the cloak. "You pledged to a sorcerer after all."

Some time later, they tumbled into Sigyn's bedroom, their clothes mussed and half off. They had missed dinner, but a platter of food waited for them on the table. They split the meal between them, giggling and laughing.

Sigyn was drawing a single, sweet grape up Loki's side when a knock sounded at the door. Loki flinched and Sigyn traced the area again, hearing his gruff, soft laughter. "Is my lord ticklish?"

"Sigyn!" he whispered. "Stop... I'm warning you."

"Oooh! Threats!" Sigyn whispered back. She abandoned the grape and traced the curves of his muscles. Though he was not as massive as others, his chest and form were muscled and fit. She giggle, twitching as Loki began to find that little place under her ribs where _she _would be beset with giggles.

The knock sounded again, more firmly.

Sigyn pouted and pulled away. "Who is it do you suppose?"

"Someone who will get a piece of my mind," Loki snapped, pulling on his pants. "If not my boot to his backside."

Sigyn frowned and pulled on her dress.

"What?!" Loki barked as he swung open the door. Frigga stood there, glaring at him in surprise.

"Is this how you treat your mother?" she asked acidly.

"We were enjoying a quiet moment," Loki explained. He drew in a deep breath. "I'm sure you understand."

"Indeed," Frigga nodded, brushing past him. "My dear—I am glad to find you and Loki together. We sent up a platter when you did not arrive for dinner..." She smiled at the empty platter and plates and pretended not to see the errant few grapes on the floor. Or the drips of melted chocolate from the dipped fruits. "But I wished to speak to you both."

Loki raised an eyebrow and led Sigyn to a chair, wrapping his cloak around her and standing stiffly behind her. "What can we do to help you, Mother?" he asked, cocking his head.

"I wished to bed Sigyn's pardon," she explained. "I had thought that...well, never mind what I thought. When I offered to help Sigyn disguise her face, I did not intend that she be offended." She arched an eyebrow at Sigyn, who was listening attentively but without expression and her son who was thinly disguising his irritation. "I was mistaken and do not wish there to be bad feelings."

Sigyn fought to hide a blush. "There are no ill feelings. You both made a generous offer and Loki and I have been—discussing it." She swallowed. "It matters little to me what I look like, but I would not reflect badly on Loki. If there is a problem with how I look, then I will change it. Otherwise, if left entirely to me, I would stay as I am."

Frigga nodded slightly. "As you wish my dear." She frowned at Loki. "Now—you must leave _discreetly_. You do not wish to have people whispering-"

"Whispering what?" Loki smiled sardonically. "That Sigyn bears my child? I'm afraid that bit of information has already run around the palace several times." He shrugged. "I even had a petitioner come to congratulate me."

Frigga sighed. Rumor was the uninvited guest at the palace. "As you say, then." She bowed her head in exasperation and to avoid showing how relieved she was that Sigyn had not been offended. "I will see myself out and look forward to breaking the fast with you _both _in the morning."

The next days flew by in a hurry. Loki was tied up quickly by Odin in some kind of complicated negotiation of land rights and rarely saw Sigyn other than at mealtimes. Sigyn rarely saw anyone but Frigga, who was determined to bring out every detail and get her approval. The dressmaker came forward with her dresses and the all-important wedding gown and needed fittings for each. The bakers lined up to have her try their cakes and desserts. Yet, Sigyn thrived—hustling out to do a little gardening each day as well as visiting her animals.

A week before the wedding, Frigga announced that she was going to go to the markets and take Sigyn with her. Loki only rolled his eyes, which caused Odin to snicker. Thor was suddenly beset by a hearty cough and drank deeply to hide his own expression.

"Mother—don't you think that there is enough to do here?" Loki asked. "I mean—we are getting ready for the wedding."

"And the feast!" Volstagg added.

"Everything is moving forward as planned," Frigga said. "And I think that it wouldn't hurt Sigyn to go out."

Loki looked at Sigyn thoughtfully. "I think it would be better if she were to rest." He swung his fork at Sigyn. "My dear—you bear a heavy burden. Don't you think that it would be better to rest here?"

"What do you think will happen?" Frigga teased. "Do you think that some beau would waltz off with her?"

Sigyn surprised them by laughing heartily. "If anyone is at all interested in me, it is only the company I keep and the clothes that I wear that attracts their attention." She sighed. "I think an hour or two only would not overtax me or the babe."

"I will go with you, if you like," Thor offered. "Then none would dare harm you."

Sigyn felt her muscles clench. As nice as Thor seemed to be, it was still an instinctive reaction to flinch when she heard his hearty voice. Frigga had said that it would take time, but it didn't seem to be getting any better. So, she pressed her nails into her palms, forcing herself to calm down. "I think that we will be fine," she whispered.

Loki brightened at her refusal. She was steadfast in her ways—she would be courteous and civil at mealtimes, and speak politely when their paths crossed, but she still did not favor even the thought of being around Thor. Even Odin she hesitated with, though she worked not to show it.

"We will take guards, if it will help," Frigga said with a concerned frown. Loki's overprotective actions were bordering on smothering. He insisted she nap at least once a day and that she not leave the palace if at all avoidable. This had made getting the fittings and so on done a trial.

"I'm sure that we'll be fine, my love," Sigyn echoed with a smile. "And we will be back quickly." She picked at her bowl of fruit—mainly early strawberries and blueberries. "I hope that we're going to go to the candy store."

"Of course," Frigga nodded.

So it was that Frigga and Sigyn were in the marketplace. Frigga, of course, had a thousand errands to do and people to speak to—old friends and shopkeepers and so on. For all that the palace was in the midst of wedding preparations, there was still a lot of commerce to be settled. Sigyn bought the candy she wanted—mainly some chocolate covered berries and some pieces of the dark chocolate Loki favored—and then ordered a dozen chocolate strawberries for after the wedding. The shopkeeper smiled and was charmed as she spoke with him.

"My dear," Frigga said with a calm voice. "Do you mind if I go to this shop? I will have Royce take you back to the palace if you wish to rest, but I do want to see about some fine thread for the tapestry I am working on."

"I will rest in the common green," Sigyn decided. "It is simply a beautiful day and it seems a shame to go hustling in." She waved the paper wrapped package of candy. "If there is a bench under a tree in the common green, I can eat my candy in peace."

"As you wish," Frigga nodded in approval. It seemed to her that Sigyn had not been able to draw breath without Loki overseeing it, and she was happy to see Sigyn able to relax without him. "Royce will escort you. In fact, I will make my own way back to the palace if you wish to make an afternoon of it."

Sigyn nodded and swept out with Royce. The bench was shaded lightly by a willow tree and Sigyn opened her little package.

"What's that?" a small voice asked.

"It is candy," Sigyn answered, cocking her head at the new voice. "Who are you?"

"I'm Gwyneth," the small voice answered. "I come out here a lot, but I haven't seen you before. Do you really know the Queen?"

"Yes," Sigyn giggled. "And she is very nice." She thought for a moment and broke off a piece. "Would you like a taste?"

"Oh, yes!" Gwyneth said. "I haven't eaten all day."

"Oh?" Sigyn said.

"My da'-he is ailing." Gwyneth plopped the piece in her mouth. "Not like when he came back from the wars, though."

"What happened in the wars?"

"He was injured. The Frost Giants hit him and it burned his skin." The little girl crawled up beside her on the bench. "It smells bad and oozes."

"But why does he not go to a healer?"

"I don't know," Gwyneth said. "Is there more candy?"

"Of course—here is another piece." Sigyn thought for a moment. "The King has said that there is money for soldiers who cannot pay for healers. Perhaps your father could find aid there...?"

"Gwyneth!" a loud, hoarse voice rasped. "Where are you?"

"Da!" she called. "I'm here. This lady knows the Queen!"

"Oh?" the male voice chortled. When he approached the bench, he stopped. "Why, Gwyneth, this is..."

"I'm Sigyn. We have been having a lovely conversation here. Won't you please join us?"

"My lady-I..." The man grunted as he sat down.

Sigyn smiled and fed Gwyneth another piece of chocolate. "My little friend says that you were injured. Is there anything I can do to help?"

The man gaped for a moment, unsure how to respond. "I need...well... I need a little help. My leg was shattered and I can't march like I used to. Couldn't do soldiering any more and...well...it's hard trying to get around."

"And your arm, Da'" Gwyneth said innocently.

Sigyn smiled. "There is a fund to help soldiers heal from their wounds. I can help you a little there to see that you are properly healed." Sigyn gestured. "Royce—will you help us to the palace?"

"My lady, of course," Royce said.

"Oh there's lots who are worse off than I am," the man said. "All but a few of the healers say that they won't do anything without getting paid."

Sigyn frowned. "We'll see about that."

It took actually most of the afternoon to wander through the palace and find the correct clerk to ask about funds for the veteran and retired soldiers. There was money set aside, but it was hard to find out how to apply for it since the clerk who had managed it had retired. Sigyn took a purse and left with Royce in tow, following Gwyneth and her father.

She was led to a small house on the outskirts of town. Inside were several men on pallets and a harried healer trying to help them. She smiled uncertainly at Sigyn—taking in her costly clothes, graceful hands and proud stance—and the family with her. Sigyn could not know it, but she blanched as she considered the scars across the woman's face.

"How may I help you, my lady?" she asked timidly. "Jonathan, it is good to see you and Gwyn as always."

"I believe that there has been a misunderstanding," Sigyn replied softly. "Someone said that there was no money to pay for healers for the soldiers who were injured."

"Oh, my lady. That is only the half of it. Several healers like myself volunteer our time and skills, but there is little to go around for medicines and supplies. And many suffer worse because—like Jonathan, they are so injured they cannot take another occupation after being dismissed. This leads to hunger—"

"Starvation," Jonathan muttered softly.

"And that makes this a hundred times worse," the other woman finished up.

Sigyn felt her gorge rise at the strong odors of this place. "Please—I cannot see what is here. Could you please describe the need?"

"I can," Royce answered. "My lady, there are only ten pallets on the floor, most of which are occupied. I know some of these men—they were assigned with me and are good men. But they were injured badly and no one knew about the monies set aside for their welfare."

Sigyn turned to the healer again. "If you had the funds, could you improve this place? What would you need?"

"Oh I'd first get the supplies—medicines and such. The building is sound, and the mats are not much, but we get by."

Sigyn frowned. "Royce, please give this healer half the purse."

"Gladly, my lady."

The coins clinked loudly. The healer gasped. "My lady...this is a true blessing. Cora! Menda! Come here!" Two other sets of feet tripped up close. "Cora—go to the herbalist and fetch this list of things. Menda—you know where to go."

"Yes!" they echoed.

Sigyn smiled. "It is not much, but I will try to see that there is more." She turned to Jonathan. "Sir, could you gather two or three men who are hale and hearty?"

"I know of several. They're not much to look at but they are good friends."

"Then I will pay them for their time if you will fetch them."

"Yes, my lady." And Jonathan left, his feet flying out the door.

"Royce—did you know of this?"

"I knew the rumors, but had no need to come here. Yet."

"I want you to take me and the men with Jonathan to the markets. I will visit several areas and need men to carry supplies back here."

"As you wish, my lady."

Jonathan returned quickly with two others. Sigyn tucked her hand into Royce's elbow and they journeyed out together. Quite quickly, she found thick pads to rest on, along with sheets and pillows. Another stop and she found two old camp stoves at a tinker's shop. Counting her coins carefully, she moved through the market, finally purchasing two baskets of bread, an enormous supply of dried meats, and a barrel of ale.

The little building was buzzing when they returned. The men that Jonathan had engaged were setting up the new bed clothes. The camp stoves—similar to the one that Loki had given her—were set around to warm the space. The bread and dried meats were passed around, along with horns of ale.

"Blessings to you, my lady." The healer stood at her side. "This will mean the world to these men."

"I will return tomorrow to the markets to see about other rations. I fear that the meat will not be enough."

Royce cleared his throat. "The shopkeepers often have vegetables that they cannot sell in the summer. If they had a proper cellar to store them, we could supply these men with soups and then store extra for the winter."

Sigyn tried desperately to hide her yawn. All the excitement was making her tired. "That sounds like a lovely idea. We will go back to the markets and see about donation tomorrow."

"As you wish, my lady. I will be available after midday."

Gwyneth ran to Sigyn and hugged her close. "My lady... Will you come back tomorrow?"

"I will try. But I cannot promise anything." Sigyn smiled sadly. "Truly, I give you my word that when I can, I will return."

Jonathan took her hand and kissed her knuckles gently. "It is a blessing."

"We are blessed to have such men as you in our armies," Sigyn replied. "If your friends are able, could they dig the cellar?"

"Indeed we could." Jonathan coughed suddenly. "Well...maybe they could."

"And a well?" Sigyn asked.

"A well would be an immense blessing," the healer piped up. "Our small gardens would bloom indeed."

"Gardens?"

"Indeed, my lady. We have a small collection of gardens for our herbs and some amount of vegetables. It is little, but we do what we can to feed these men."

"Then let those who can help out with the cellar and the well. I will petition for moneys for their time and effort and will try to work with the clerk to see that money is given here as well."

"Odin bless you, child." The healer dabbed at her eyes with her apron.

Sigyn smiled. "He already has."

Sigyn felt wretchedly tired and sweaty as Royce finally led her to her room. She felt heartsick as well—Royce had been only too eager to tell her of the problems with the little building and how sometimes it was the only thing between an ex-soldier and starvation. At least the little clerk who she petitioned had been still at his office and agreed to sit with her on the morrow to determine a budget. Her stomach growled angrily as she finally went into her sitting room.

"So you finally have returned?" Loki said sarcastically from his place in the chair by the fire. Though she could not see his eyes blazing emerald or the snarling frown that distorted his face, she could hear them in his voice.

Sigyn threw her cloak on the back of the couch. Her head buzzed with happiness as she contemplated what she could do to help Jonathan and the others. "My love, you would not believe the day that I have had. I-"

"You deliberately disobeyed my orders to stay here and rest. You promised me that you would return quickly!" he barked. He rose from the chair he had been sitting in and stalked over to her. "Did you think that I would not know?"

"I...I'm sure this is a misunderstanding."

"There was no misunderstanding! You disobeyed me." He grabbed her arm roughly. "You will not leave here again."

"But Loki! I promised that-"

"I know about your promises." He cocked his head and looked at her strangely. "Do tell what kept you from obeying me, _your prince._" He snarled in her face, dragging her close to him. "Some handsome beau, perhaps? Maybe even, Royce?"

"What?! No! Royce took me-"

"I don't care where he took you," Loki snapped again, pushing her towards the chair. She stumbled a small bit and then gingerly sat down. "I do care that you pledged your fidelity to me alone. I do care that you are heavy with my child and have been under attack from Frost Giants." He squatted down in front of her, gripping her hands tightly. Sigyn whimpered in his grasp and his knuckles turned white around her hands. "Now whatever ideas you may have about leaving, you can forget them. You belong to _me._"

"Loki—you're hurting me!" she groaned.

He released her hands as quickly as he had grabbed them. With a snort, he stood up. "I will speak to Mother about not letting you wander around the markets again." He turned to face the opposite wall. It was a petty thing to turn his back to her when she couldn't see it, but it helped him to focus on his fury rather than the sudden mournful look on her face. "I will also speak to Mother about her penchant to let you wander the streets. I will ask Father to not allow her to take you out of the palace."

"You don't have that right," she whispered defiantly. She shook her head sadly. "Please, my love, let me explain!"

"Your explanations bore me," he snarled. "I think that I will seek another's company tonight. I don't favor the company of oath-breakers." Sigyn gasped in shock. With that, he walked out and slammed the door. With an angry oath of his own, he locked the door.

Sigyn sat very still in shock as the bolt slid home. Slowly, she rose and, struggling with the laces, she slid out of the gown. The bathing room had a pitcher of cool water and she washed with that, saving a little to drink. Taking a night robe out, she pulled it on and slid into the bed. There was a soft thunk outside and then another as rain began to pelt the windows and slowly Sigyn forced herself to sleep.

The next morning, Sigyn was awakened by loud pounding on the door. She staggered up and made her way to the door.

"Sigyn. Sigyn!" Frigga called out. "Are you awake?"

"I'm here," she sighed. "But...but, I can't get out. Loki has the key." She tried the door and, sure enough, it was still locked. Sighing and wiping her face, she went back to the closet to throw on a dress.

Presently Frigga knocked again. "Sigyn... Can we come in?"

"We?" she asked wearily. "Who else is there?"

"Loki and I are," Frigga replied quietly.

"We are coming in," he called.

"As you wish," Sigyn said, sitting down on the couch.

The door was unlocked and opened and Sigyn smelled the scent of breakfast—eggs, buttered toast and sausage along with a cup of the chamomile and mint tea that she favored. Two sets of footsteps bustled around her, but she paid them no mind. Absently, she wondered where Memnet was to do her hair and then cursed herself for being so weak. Weren't there greater things to worry about?

"My dear," Frigga said, glancing at her. "Are you feeling well?"

"Yes, Mother," she answered mechanically.

Frigga looked at her with a touch of sadness. "Well, we brought you breakfast," she finally said, setting the tray down on the coffee table in front of her. "Do eat up-"

Sigyn shrugged and said, "I'm not particularly hungry." She waved her hand stiffly and tried not to wince. "You both may share it if you wish."

"We've already eaten," Loki said softly, sitting down beside her. He draped one arm around her shoulders. "Now—here is a lovely piece of the sweet bread that you favor."

"I'm not hungry!" she snapped at him. If his hand hadn't gripped her shoulder, she would have stomped out of the room. As it was, she turned away from him.

"Mother," she finally said in a choked voice. "I should like your help."

"My dear-" Frigga looked at Loki who only frowned his brooding, stormy frown. "I...I think that..."

"Yes," Sigyn sighed. "I've already been ___informed _that I should remain here." She swatted Loki's hand lightly. "But, you see, I had a meeting arranged with one of the clerks to discuss funding one of the volunteer groups in the city that cares for soldiers who have come home too wounded remain enlisted. He was supposed to give me a budget of what moneys could be dispensed over the next six months. I should like to give him a message to give Royce the money to deliver and then to bring back a receipt from Cora or Menda." She shrugged. "It's a small thing, I know. But the clerk that Odin had originally put in charge of the money retired and few knew that the funds existed. They have been living hand to mouth trying to support a place for the soldiers to receive healing and help." She shrugged again helplessly. "I wanted to help them out..."

"It sounds like a grand idea," Frigga smiled, casting a knowing look at Loki. Loki's half smile thinned to a frown, looking at Sigyn. "I will see to it that the moneys are couriered safely. Do you have someone you can trust to read the budget to you? Do you know how the funds should be used?"

Sigyn nodded, her pale cheeks growing rosy. "I am so excited about the plans. The first thing is to dig a well so that they have clean water for their gardens and for cleansing of wounds. Then next build a cellar for the building. This will be for storage and to store extra vegetables. There was a gentleman named 'Jonathan' there with his daughter Gwyneth who found several men who were able to help me. Those men need the work—work that they can do with frequent breaks and slow movement. One of them—Gwyll-needs to rest often because his peg-leg is too short and makes him ill-balanced. Then there's Boyar who was hurt in the head. He is gentle as a lamb, but sometimes needs the others to help him to do his task. He was the biggest and brought back all of the pillows that I needed when we went out yesterday-"

"You were trying to outfit the place in one day?" Frigga gasped, looking at Loki in surprise.

"No—I did not need to do much. Only the bedding. I should like to provide other services, but I need to know how much money there is to spend. When the gardens come in, I hope to have Gwyll and Boyar go to the merchants' stalls in the market to buy leftover vegetables so that they can make soups and such. Then there's finding a place to get beans and rice and such. And chickens—they will need chickens for the garden and for eggs-"

"My heavens!" Frigga smiled. "You have been busy." She fumbled for a moment. "I must have left my writing things at my desk. Loki—could you? Never mind. I'll use these here unless you mind, Sigyn."

"No...not at all." Sigyn smiled widely.

Frigga made copious notes and plans, listening eagerly as Sigyn outlined the foodstuffs and supplies that the little group needed. Sigyn felt lightheaded, but she scarcely dared stop for breath because who knew how long silent Loki would allow her before he stomped off and locked her in again? She did finally accept a cup of the lukewarm tea and sipped it as she spoke about her plans.

"Enough," Loki said finally. "Surely that is plans enough for today?"

"I should say so!" Frigga sighed happily. "I will fetch the clerk and give him the messages. If I can find Royce, then he will carry the message with me. I will, of course, apologize that you are not able to deliver it personally unless...?"

"No, Mother," Loki said softly. "I think that I will stay with Sigyn today. All day." He gently touched the frazzled braid. "If she will have me."

Frigga waited for Sigyn to nod or protest or something. Instead, she only bowed her head as if praying for patience. "My dear—is there anything else that should be taken care of today?"

Sigyn cocked a sad smile. "I suppose that I should find Memnet to get cleaned up."

"I will help you, my love," Loki purred.

Frigga frowned at him. "You should see to finding someone who can be trusted to help Sigyn."

"Later."

"It's all right, Mother," Sigyn said. "Better to thrash this out before the wedding."

Frigga nodded at her uncertainly. "I will do these things myself so that the soldiers may be helped. We had no idea that this happened, but of course, we must work to fix it."

Sigyn smiled—indeed, she couldn't help but smiling. "Mother—it is a relief knowing that you will be taking care of this. My thanks."

Frigga frowned again and rose with her notes. "I will expect to see you ___both _at the noon day meal. In the meantime, I will take care of this. Good morn."

Sigyn was smiling softly until she heard the door close. Inexplicably, a chill raced up her spine. Loki's hand still rested on her shoulder, but his fingers did not bite into her flesh like they had. She twisted her hands into her skirt idly, frowning as she considered what she should do. _"____Am I so weak that I can help no one?"_she thought sadly.

The sad silence filled the room. Sigyn had neither appetite nor thirst and small desire for a bath. Finally, she tried to stand up to go to the bathroom. Loki's hand unexpectedly fell from her shoulder. For a moment, she thought that maybe he had reconsidered his rash anger.

"I will go bathe," she said finally.

"Will you go with me?" Loki said softly. Had Sigyn been able to see, she would have seen the wounded expression in his unguarded eyes—how he yearned to see her smile again as she had been with Frigga. He hadn't given it much thought, but if helping the soldiers was something to make her happy, he supposed that it was not such a bad thing provided she was willing to accept his limits.

Unfortunately, Sigyn saw none of that and might not have believed it if she had. So, she said, "I will be in the bathing room."

Absently, she doffed the dress, laying it across the corner of her bed. Her underthings were deposited in a pile and she went to the bathing room. It almost surprised her that the tub was somehow filled with warm water and gave off a spicy, sweet scent. But then, Loki could do anything, she supposed.

She sank into the tub, feeling the warm water wash over her. Her stomach was rounded now and she stroked it absently. With a stretch, she reached to undo her hair. The great lengths of mahogany fell around her, hiding her flesh from prying eyes.

Loki's eyes narrowed as he saw Sigyn silently bathing. She had no need to hide her form from him—he had already seen her every inch—but that she did so wounded him. It was as though there was a wall between them that he had no idea how to scale.

Then he saw her hands. There were bruises on her hands where he had grabbed them the day before. Another, slight bruise the exact width of his palm was around her upper arm. Every other inch of her was sweetly colored cream with just the right dollop of rose.

"You are hurt," he finally said.

"It is nothing," Sigyn replied softly. She tucked her hands into the tub around her. "Will there be anything else today?"

"Breakfast," he grunted, then winced. Bad enough to be in a such a foul temper, but then to sound like Hogun with his grunts and short replies was sore prick to his pride.

"As you wish," was all that Sigyn said. She ducked her hair to wash the dust and sweat from it and then rose. Memnet had once shown her where the towels were kept and she slowly took one out and dried off. Without haste, she brushed past him and went mechanically put on her clothes.

Breakfast was short-lived. She ate whatever he offered her, but made no move to enjoy the food on her own. Loki was silent as well, trying to put together the words to say to her.

Finally, she finished the tea and set down the cup. "I wish to rest. I assume that you will be taking everything with you?"

Loki started to nod, but flushed. "I will..."

"Then do so," she said, walking to the bedroom door. She opened it and then closed it softly behind her with a small click.

Sigyn crumpled inside. She clapped her hand over her mouth, waiting for the sound of his boots in the other room. When it seemed like minutes had passed, she had to bite her knuckles to keep from crying out. At last Loki's footsteps were heard, along with the outer door opening and closing. She didn't bother to wait to hear the lock, but instead threw herself on the bed. She could shed no tears at all, but that didn't stop the hoarse feeling in her throat as she cried out against the pillow.

The morning passed slowly. Sigyn dozed off and on, waiting for the time to pass. Occasionally, she wandered to the front room to see if there was anything to do. Even sewing would have helped—but there was nothing.

"He is thorough in his punishments," she sighed to no one at all.

Finally, she opened her window to at least be able to hear the sounds outside. There were birds singing and some sweet smell in the air. For some time, she was able to remember her island—funny how she always called it 'her island' in her head—and the sound of the ocean, the smell of the earth and the feel of the plants beneath her fingers.

Idly, she tried the door again and to her surprise, it was unlocked. She opened it timidly. "Is anyone there?" she said softly.

"We are here, my lady," a gentle masculine voice said. "We are your guards."

"Oh...," she replied. "Am I allowed to leave my rooms?"

"Only with us, my lady," the voice replied gruffly.

Loki's voice smoothly cut in. "Or with me." He reached out and gingerly touched her hand. "Will you take lunch with the family?"

Sigyn nodded solemnly. "If you would have it so."

"I would." He took her hand as though she were made of the finest glass and tucked it into his arm. "Mother is most upset and would be greatly relieved to see you."

Sigyn only shrugged. "Are _you_ glad to see me?"

"I am," he said smoothly. He nodded to the guards and they bowed as the pair left. "Come. Let us go to see them."

They proceeded in silence and joined the family. Sif, the Warriors Three and Thor were already seated with Odin and watched in silence as Loki led Sigyn inside. Frigga at last came in with a small parcel of wildflowers and everyone rose in respectful silence. Odin smiled at her worried face and led her to the table. All saw her reddened eyes and the purple shaded hollows beneath.

"Let us sit," Odin said softly. Usually he just waved his hand, but without sight, Sigyn could hardly see his grand gestures.

Servants came in, along with the nervous, thin cook. Loaves of bread were set in easy reach, along with two salt cellars. The first course was a hearty soup—thick with minced vegetables. The second course was a ham with baked apples—one of Volstagg's particular favorites. The third course was a roasted bird with onions in gravy. At last was the salad of greens with walnuts and strawberries and the sweets—pastries with sweetened, creamy cheese filling and various berries and candied violets on top.

Hogun sat in silence, glaring at Loki. Fandral was also particularly subdued. Sif took her usual portions, along with Volstag. Thor swatted her hand and made a small gesture and she frowned at him. Leaning back, she whispered into his ear some angry thing and he glared back at her.

"You take nothing for yourself, Frigga," Odin observed.

"I find...I am not hungry," she replied.

Odin nodded and took a slice of ham for himself. "You bring us a gift of springtime with your lovely flowers," he said.

Frigga let out a thin, harsh smile and looked at Loki. "They are not mine," she said, her hoarse voice coming out almost as a hiss. "They are Sigyn's gift."

Loki's eyes widened and he almost dropped his goblet. Sigyn only paled, her hands stiffly knotted in her dress. Loki shot her a glare.

Odin nodded stiffly and gestured for a servant. "Bring us a vase of water, that Sigyn may receive her gift." He looked at the flowers again. They were common flowers—dandelions, daffodils, daisies, violets and such flowers that could be found on any roadside—wrapped in a piece of paper from the candy store that Frigga and Sigyn had been visiting. "Tell us about this gift."

Frigga nodded, taking a hearty gulp of her wine as she struggled with the rancor in her voice. Even if he younger son did not listen, he would hear her words. "She does us honor." Heartened by the attentive audience, she continued. "Sigyn accompanied me to the markets yesterday and found that some of Asgard's soldiers were not properly being cared for at home. She instructed me this morning to inquire about the funds we set aside for the veteran's care and to take a portion to the shelter the people of Asgard had left for them. It was she that found the place—many refused to take me until I found tiny Gwyneth-"

"Why would they refuse to take you?" Odin asked almost innocently.

"They said that it was a—I believe that they called it 'a bad part of town'." Frigga shuddered as Loki's expression grew stormy. "It wasn't so bad—just poor. The roads are ill serviced and the people are not wealthy. At any rate, I found the shelter only after Gwyneth took me into her confidence. And I wouldn't have known her had she not shown me the chocolates Sigyn had forgotten."

Frigga swallowed heavily. "There were six that day who were each lying in the pallets Sigyn purchased. Each of them could describe her to me and how they waited for her visit because she promised to come back. Two—one of them was Jonathan, I believe—were being treated for smaller injuries.

"It surprised me—but four had brought out borrowed shovels and were digging the well. Gwyll and Boyar were both there—taking turns. They were sore disappointed that Sigyn herself could not return, but they had been told yesterday to dig a well and that they would be paid for their time and they were doing very well to please her. They even asked what task would be next so that they could continue to work and perhaps bring more to do her bidding."

The entire table was silent. Frigga smile more warmly, glancing out of the corner of her eye that Loki had gone entirely stiff and pale except for spots of red on his high cheekbones. "I found each of them to be honorable men who had been injured in battle. Their injuries prevented them from continuing as soldiers and they had been sent home. Unfortunately, many of them were similarly too injured to do labor and most were too old to be apprentices. Some, like Jonathan, had families and could ill-afford to begin the seven years as an unpaid apprentice."

Sigyn finally stirred, taking her glass into her hand. "And what of the coins? Did Cora or Menda-"

"Cora and Menda were both healing as I arrived and the healer wanted to give you her thanks because the medicines that you provided saved two of the soldiers' lives." Frigga shifted uncomfortably and finally took a portion of bread. "The coins that you gave them were put to good use."

"And the well?" Sigyn asked hoarsely.

"Gwyll and Boyar were taking turns digging when I left and they promised that by sunset tomorrow, your well would be finished." Frigga took out the heavy purse and dropped it on the table. "They would gather again after that and would tend the vegetable gardens until you bade them-"

"Oh no," Sigyn gasped. "I did not leave moneys to pay for their time. It was all such a rush yesterday...!"

Frigga smiled at the younger woman. "I had the money with me, but they men said that you were the one to contract with them and refused to take it until they were finished." She arched a fine eyebrow. "I daresay that they will accept no reward until you give it."

Sigyn nodded. "The gardens are good—most every man there could help in the gardens. But the cellar should be next." Her head raised and her cheeks began to glow. "The healer said that some of the medicines would require cool storage during the summers. Perhaps their families could also learn from the healer what to do and what to gather-"

Thor nodded. "I will go and see if I may aid them as well. It is not good that the faithful soldiers of Asgard who must leave our service do not have adequate provisions."

"Here, here," said Fandral with a rakish grin.

"I do not think that we will be much help without Sigyn there," Frigga said archly. "Indeed, this little enclave was most dedicated to her."

Loki felt a chill run up his spine. Frigga was manipulating him—and doing a rather poor job of it. He took another slice of bread and buttered it.

"I would be honored to escort the lady," Fandral offered at last. "It is the least that I could do for Asgard's valiant forces."

"Indeed," Thor agreed and repeated himself. "I should like to join the party and see if there is anything I can do."

"Loki," Frigga said at last. "Do you think that you could let us have Sigyn for the afternoon?"

All eyes turned as one towards Loki. He smiled slightly. "Of course, Mother." He tried to gently touch Sigyn's hand and then drew back. "If Sigyn is up for it."

Sigyn nodded slightly. "I should at least like to pay the men for their time."

"It is settled then," Loki nodded. Sigyn smiled a little, as though relieved and it helped soothe his temper somewhat. He swallowed heavily, trying to hide the flush of embarassment that he had all but accused her of infidelity when she had truly been doing him honor and Asgard good. "But perhaps I should go with her. I should hate to keep Asgard's finest warriors from their tasks." He shot a glare at Fandral and Thor, who only grinned back.

"Royce perhaps can take me," Sigyn offered, ignoring a slight static filled pop of her magic. "He knows the way and the others are comfortable with him. I would hate to keep...e-e-either prince of Asgard waiting on my whim."

Odin raised his hand and Frigga shot him a glare before speaking. "My dear—I could not find Royce. Many knew of him and knew that he had escorted you, but none could tell me where he had gone this morning. Only that a message had come from the palace early that morning and he had left."

"Oh," was all that Sigyn said. She nodded. "I see." She seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Would the Lady Sif agree to escort me?"

"What?!" Sif gaped.

"Sif?" Loki asked, unable to hide his surprise.

"She is a well respected warrior and there would be no doubt of any...trickery," Sigyn explained softly. She laughed dryly and Loki raised his eyebrow. "And I have no doubt that she would do all in her power to bring me back as swiftly as possible."

Odin laughed at such clever reasoning. With Sif in attendance, the lady would be well guarded, there would be no thought of treachery or infidelity, _and _Sif would be pressing them to return quickly. "It is agreed, then," Odin pronounced.

The lunch went on more comfortably. Sigyn began to eat heartily, to Loki's relief. Sif only scowled and pushed her plate away. Thor smirked at Loki and watched as Sif left the table. He mouthed, "Meow" to his brother.

Only—that smart comment did not make Loki laugh like it might have. Sigyn was hale and hearty and plainly eager to go. He watched as the vase was brought forward and she delighted in the flowers in it. Had he broken her trust and her love as easily as his spells might smash the vase itself? Would there be a time when she would simply vanish into the streets and not be seen again?

And there was no getting a word in between Frigga and Sigyn. They discussed expanding the building, improving the conditions, expanding the gardens, building a second well indoors for winter use, and other such plans almost non-stop. Sigyn was flushed with her excitement and her hands spoke eloquently as she illustrated her point.

"Sigyn," he said as patiently as he could muster. "Please...for the babe's sake if not for mine, please eat."

Sigyn popped a bite in her mouth and continued listening to Frigga as the Queen began discussing buying other abandoned buildings to expand the services this one offered. Absently, she took a sip of her drink and picked up a bit of bread. Loki tried prompting her to continue eating, but at length he realized that he may as well have saved his breath because she was neck deep in the schemes and had no desire to listen to him. Odin smiled in understanding and raised his glass.

Finally, they both stopped to drink and wet their throats. Loki cleared his throat and tried to prompt Sigyn. "Careful, ___myn lykyng__. Y_ou actually took a breath that time." Sigyn giggled and plucked some grapes from her plate. "You might want to consider a sandwich?"

Sigyn giggled and flashed him a smile. "Isn't it wonderful, Loki? There is so much that can be done."

"But it does not need to be all done today," he countered pleasantly. "And definitely not all before dessert."

"Here, here!" boomed Volstagg with a grin.

Sigyn pouted and finally ate a few bites. "As you wish..." She sniffed the air delicately. "But the flowers are wonderful."

Frigga nodded, suddenly famished herself. "Gwyneth picked them. Although she confessed she ate the last chocolate."

Sigyn giggled and then her face lit up. "That's a great idea. We can see if perhaps we can do celebrations of birth of the soldiers. If they are being healed, surely it would harm none to have some small treat for them?"

Frigga nodded. "Perhaps. The bakers are notoriously hard to work with sometimes though and none will consider baking on the premises without a proper oven."

Sigyn frowned, again abandoning her meal. "There's hardly enough room for the camp stoves and the mats."

"My ladies," Odin said finally. "It seems to me that you both must go and plan what is to be done."

Frigga nodded eagerly and then frowned. "But the wedding...!"

"Most everything is decided, surely," Sigyn said innocently. "We can spend a few hours and gather our wits and then be back to do wedding tasks?"

"We'll take Sif," Frigga nodded. "As a warrior, she will see things that we do not."

"Agreed," Sigyn said shyly. "Although won't we need some paper to write notes? And perhaps a candy for Gwyneth?" She fretted, knotting her hands in her napkin. "Gwyll has a small child too. I wish that I could read to the children. It might take their minds off of their ills and I would think that it would help the soldiers to know that their kin are well minded."

Loki grinned his famous, mischievous cat's grin. Idly, he toyed with his wine as he listened to the ladies continue on like a hurricane. When they both finally stopped for sips of wine, he conceded, "Sigyn, please go with my blessing."

Sigyn squealed and wrapped her arms around him, knocking over the vase in her excitement. Thor grabbed it and moved it aside with a small grin. "My love, thank you. This is so important and precious to me."

"But I will take you to task-" He shot Frigga a telling glance. "-if you are the least moment late for supper." She kissed him again, smiling gleefully. Whirling out of her seat, she almost danced out of the room, leaving Frigga scrambling to catch up.

Odin rolled his eye. "_That _is a secret to a happy union."

"Oh?" said Thor with a sapphire twinkle in his eyes. "What is that?"

"Never stand between a woman and her heart's task," Odin rumbled with a laugh.

Sif was silent as the other two women found her at the palace gates. She glared at Sigyn and led them to the horses she had chosen. Sigyn settled in beside Frigga, laughing and chatting as they rode out in the warm air. For a brief period, Sif felt out of place in the talk of dresses, flowers and gardens-she had never cared for such-but was relieved when the talk again turned towards soldiers and their needs.

The afternoon flew past on golden wings for Sigyn. Gwyll and Boyar had finished the well and several other men had shown up, hearing of work that might be available. Cora and Menda had put together a list of general supplies that they needed regularly, as well as plants that were useful to them. Gwyneth was delighted to see her friend again and nothing would do but to sit next to her as she plotted the size and dimensions of the cellar and the gardens. Sigyn, with Frigga's help, listened to each man as he spoke of the things he came to the little building for and what he still lacked.

"I cannot make any promises," Sigyn repeated for the umpteenth time. "But I will add this to my list to take before the King and we will enlist his aid." Frigga smiled as she wrote down each complaint and suggestion, listening as Sigyn tried to avoid setting anyone up for disappointment.

The man before her nodded and smiled. "I cannot tell you how much it means to know that we will have medicines here again." He smiled at Gwyneth who had curled up beside Sigyn and was yawning sleepily. "And to think that our children will be able to play here without interrupting anyone while we receive our healing-that is a miracle."

"I will do my best,"Sigyn said.

"Are you ___really _going to marry Prince Loki?" Gwyneth asked suddenly, though only one eye cracked open to look at her idol. "And be a princess?"

Sigyn smiled down at the little voice. "I am."

"My Da' says that he's a liar and trickster," Gwyneth said plainly. "How can you love him?"

Frigga almost choked and Sigyn's cheeks colored a firey red. Jonathan came hurrying up to whisk her away, but Sigyn only smiled and wrapped an arm around the girl. "Well...I suppose anyone is entitled to his opinion. But surely it is not wrong to trick an enemy and avoid the loss of lives?"

Gwyneth's brow pleated as she thought about that. "Da' said that he tricked a Frost Giant into running off a cliff with an illusion of a bridge and it saved his life." She shrugged. "But lots of people say such things about him... I'd be scared of him."

To everyone's amazement, Sigyn only laughed. Jonathan was about purple in apoplexy, but Frigga only waved silently for him to wait. Sigyn giggled. "When he yells, he scares me too, a little, but he is also kind to me. And surely everyone deserves a second chance to be better than they are?"

Gwyneth nodded. "But if he's mean to _you _then...I guess you can come to my house."

Sigyn chuckled. "And we'll hit him with feather pillows until he apologizes?"

Gwyneth laughed, "And tickle him!"

"That's a good idea, too."

Jonathan let out a deep breath. "I think that's enough Gwyneth. Remember that Prince Loki is our prince like Prince Thor. Beggin' your pardon, ladies..." Gwyneth slid off the bench and was herded home by Jonathan.

Sigyn flushed and turned towards Frigga. "Oh dear..."

Frigga sighed deeply. "I...I think we need to finish for today. We're expected back for dinner, after all."

Sigyn nodded and picked her way through, thanking Cora, Menda and the healer, as well as Gwyll and Boyar. She gave Gwyll and the healer the notes for the cellar and the garden, promising them that she would pay for the time that any veteran spent improving the place.

"That's going to attract them like flies to honey," the healer groused with a good-natured smile.

Sigyn fumbled for a moment, taking the teasing seriously. "I...I..."

"We will return with a plan to help verify that each man has worked as he has claimed," Frigga chimed in. Then in an overloud voice, she said, "We must hurry back, else we will be late. Now where is Sif?"

Sif, it turned out, was outside, leaning against the corner of the building with the reins in her hands. It...unnerved her to see the soldiers so wounded. One had been missing a leg and another had lost a hand. Would the day dawn when she was forced to beg for help and healing from such a lowly place as this? Thor would not end such as this—he was royalty, after all and would be cared for 'til the end of his days. Surely he would take care of them—Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun and her? In silence, she rode back with the other ladies.

Loki smiled from the high window as he watched the three riders approach the palace. For some reason it made his world seem more right to know that she had actually returned to him. He could not see what she said to Frigga, but she gestured grandly as the horses walked through the gates. His work was far from done, but he had not been able to prevent himself from peering out the window all the long afternoon, waiting to see if she would. He frowned at the papers in his hands—he would have chased her through Helheim to get her to return. And the writing seemed strange to him. Giving up, he simply waited for the summons for supper.

Supper was a noisy affair that evening. Frigga and Sigyn were again deep in their schemes and there was not a breath between one idea and the next. Thor and Volstagg had hunted, bagging a fine deer to be served. Hogun had gone on some errand and not yet returned. Sif only sipped her wine and sent only wondering glances at Thor from time to time as she tripped over her thoughts.

Between the first course and the second, Frigga changed topics to the wedding. "Oh heavens! The dress fitting is tomorrow."

"How will there be time?" Sigyn giggled. "We must get the garden started for there to be enough for the harvest! Not to mention the problems with water—"

"I thought the well had been dug," Loki asked.

Sigyn beamed at him. "Yes—so soon! But it is time consuming for water to be pumped or drawn up and taken to the far plants."

Loki shrugged. "Pipes could take it wherever it needed to go."

Sigyn stopped in wonder and the whole table seemed to pause. "I had not thought of that..."

"That idea has merit," Odin ventured softly. His eye twinkled at his younger son as they considered the storm of activities and energy about to break.

"A blacksmith!" said Frigga.

"A tinker!" said Sigyn at the same time.

Frigga laughed. "But the fittings... They will take some time. Already some of the new dresses Loki ordered are finished, but we still need fittings for the wedding dress."

Sigyn smiled softly. "I can't get married—I'm too busy."

Frigga scoffed and waved her fork merrily. "You may not get another chance to bring Loki to the altar."

Everyone stared at Loki with looks ranging from wide-eyed shock to wonder to amusement. He glanced at his meat and poked it with a fork. "I doubt that I shall be further than my own study."

"Why not just get married there?" Sif sniffed. "Save everyone the trouble?"

"Sif," Thor chided. "That's hardly like you... Come be happy that my brother has finally found someone to put up with him."

"For you I will be happy," Sif responded.

The next days seemed to fly. Frigga and Sigyn were often out organizing other places for wounded soldiers to receive healing. Loki was usually buried in the neverending paperwork that accompanied a great kingdom. Thor was off doing whatever it was Thor did. There were two evenings where Loki escorted his lady to feasts held in their honor and while neither of them danced, they encouraged all to enjoy themselves.


	4. The Wedding

And then, quite without anyone knowing how, the wedding day arrived. Memnet was up at dawn, heating water for a bath and waking the maids. The dressmaker yawned as she escorted the dress and frills to the bride's bedroom where the Queen had already brought a hearty breakfast. Sigyn was bathed and pampered, her long hair left flowing freely down her back and her skin radiant and finally put in the dress Loki had chosen. The veil was set on her head and the frothy lace Loki had ordered set over her eyes arranged.

With surprise, Sigyn felt an arm ring placed on her arm. "What is this?" she asked softly. Her fingers brushed the woven strands of metal and the delicate jewels set into it.

Frigga smiled and said, "A gift from Loki, though where he found someone to work gold in such delicate and beautiful strands and then weave our crest into them, I do not know." Frigga settled the design on Sigyn's arm. "It is beautiful—made from red, white and yellow gold."

"It must be beautiful," Sigyn breathed in wonder.

Frigga smiled benignly and smoothed out her own green dress and handed Sigyn an armload of flowers.

"It is tradition for the bride to offer flowers to the guests," Frigga explained. "It is to wish them happiness."

"Where is Gwyneth?"Sigyn fretted.

"Jonathan and Gwyneth arrived a short time ago. She is in the hallway with him, waiting to see you."

"Oh, good. I think she will be a lovely flower maid," Sigyn sighed peacefully.

"She is dear, and practically beside herself in her excitement."

Sigyn supposed that it was fortunate that she could not see what was going on or else her nerves would have deserted her. Frigga walked her to the large formal garden and left her with Hogun so that she could take her place beside Odin. Little Gwyneth beamed and chattered constantly, which was soothing in a backwards way.

Then the drums sounded and the guards opened the doors. Gwyneth bounced ahead first, spreading leaves and petals down the aisle. Hogun gently led her past the guests—some of whom were Asgardian and some who apparently weren't based on the languid whispers floating around her. Thor and Loki stood at the end of the grassy aisle, waiting as she drifted down to them.

As Hogun stopped and tucked her hand into Loki's, the drummers thundered a quick staccato and then silenced. Sigyn flushed beneath her veil. At least Frigga had told her this part.

Odin stood before them with a golden chain belt set with small emeralds in his hands. He smiled at Sigyn and then at Loki. Loki smiled back and nodded. "Friends," he boomed. "You have been called to witness the vows of Prince Loki Odinson to Sigyn—vows of fidelity, vows of protection and vows of honor." He took a deep breath. "Who will guarantee these vows?"

Sigyn swallowed deeply. In all the preparations, she had not even asked about the guarantor—the one who would protect her, cherish her and honor her as Loki's wife until the end of her days and take her into his house and join her to his family should Loki be called to Hela before her.

In the silence, Thor spoke with a wide smile. "I guarantee these vows. I pledge to honor the lady as Loki's wife, to protect her as I would my own, to see that she never wants so long as she lives and then to honor her as she is called to Hela."

The crowd roared its approval and Sigyn wavered, leaning a little into Loki. The cheering echoed around her and she shook for a moment. There was again the feeling of terrible cold in her belly and for a moment, she fought to quell her rising bile.

Odin must have gestured for silence. "Do you accept this guarantee, Lady Sigyn?"

She nodded and said firmly, "I do." The guarantee was to protect the lady in the event that her husband died before her—allowing her the security of knowing she would have a roof overhead and food for her family. Usually, it was a member of the man's family and the higher in status that guarantor was, the better for the lady's status in the community. Of course, as a member of the royal family, even as a widow she would be guaranteed income and housing. Still, it would have meant more to her had Hogun been the guarantor—or Fandral or Volstagg, come to that.

The crowd cheered again and for a moment, Loki felt blindly enraged. Had it been any other man, he might have felt better—even terse Hogun would have appeased him. But somehow it felt as though Thor was joining in the marriage. He squeezed Sigyn's hand as though to reassure himself that she was actually there.

Odin spoke again. "These vows have been guaranteed by Thor Odinson, pledged by his oath to honor the Lady Sigyn until the end of her days. Will you now pledge to each other?"

Sigyn smiled at Loki. "I pledge to you. I pledge that I will forsake all others, love all that you love and curse all that you curse. I pledge that your heart, your happiness and your life will forever be in my mind, my heart and the fountain of my happiness. I pledge my heart and soul to you. I pledge this in the name of the Allfather, for now and forever."

The crowd unexpectedly cheered and Sigyn felt rocked by their approval. Little Gwyneth cheered and shouted, along with Jonathan and Gwyll and Boyar. She smiled unsteadily at Loki as he took her hand and waited for quiet.

Loki's voice was tender and firm. "I pledge to you. I pledge that I will forsake all others, love all that you love and curse all that you curse. I pledge that your heart, your happiness and your life will forever be in my mind, my heart and the fountain of my happiness. I pledge my heart and soul to you. I pledge this in the name of the Allfather, for now and forever."

Another cheer started. Sigyn smiled as she heard Volstagg and Fandral bellowing with all their might only to be drowned out by Thor. Slowly, she drew closer to Loki and felt him raise the veil and his lips brush hers.

"Do it properly, Brother," Thor laughed.

And Loki did—dragging her close and wrapping his arms around her so tightly she felt almost smothered. His lips pressed harder against her, his tongue snaking out and teasing hers. Sigyn felt her blood boil and her magic rise like the fine bubbles that sometimes are in wine and tickle one's nose. Suddenly it burst from her in a brilliant blaze of firefly-like sparks.

The crowd roared in approval. Many assumed that it was Loki's doing—a fine piece of flare to mark the occasion. Several clapped—from Gwyneth's happy claps to the uncertain pounding of other, larger hands. Loki only smiled and brought their hands before Odin.

Odin smiled uncertainly, unsure of the display. It had not seemed to harm anything, though, and so he continued with the ceremonies. Wrapping the golden chain around their joined hands, he said solemnly, "Let these two be joined together, having pledged their oaths to protect and to honor one another." Under his watchful eye, they kissed each others' rings in the kiss of fidelity. Sigyn fidgeted with the bouquet slightly and Loki turned her palm over in the chain for the kiss of protection. Again Sigyn felt her magic bloom and again there was a shower of sparks in green and gold around them and snakes of sparks danced at their feet.

"I present Prince Loki and Princess Sigyn," Odin shouted with joy.

Everyone cheered—and Thor loudest of all. Sigyn flushed at all the noise, leaning against Loki for support. They raised their chained hands together over their heads and the crowds went wild. Loki turned and took the chain free and, as it was long enough still, wrapped it around her waist as a golden chain belt. Sigyn felt another wave of cheering, stomping, laughing and clapping. Then she felt a small body crash into her and tiny arms wrap around her waist.

"What is this?" Loki said in a low, frustrated voice.

"You did it!" Gwyneth shouted. "You married him and you really are a princess!" She jumped up and down and seemed set to knock Sigyn over before Jonathan managed to thread through the crowd to pull her away.

Sigyn smiled at the little girl and passed her one of the flowers from her bouquet. Gwyneth gasped and squealed with delight, dancing in a circle as Loki lead Sigyn through the crowd.

The crowd was pleasantly polite, accepting her gifts of flowers and giving the appropriate well-wishes. None had a cross word to say against either of them, but Loki fancied he could feel it in the air, unspoken but present. It did not miss his notice that while the ambassadors were equally diplomatic and polite, the common folk who had gathered were more enthusiastic and were almost to the last one thrilled to see Sigyn more than most anything else. She had things to speak to each one about as well—asking Gwyll about his family, Boyar about the progress on the cellar, Jonathan to take Gwyneth where she could be seated—and then tried to make some attempt at small talk as they greeted the guests. He guided her through the crowd, smiled at the right times and nodded at the right times.

Inside the great hall, the feast was well on its way. The usual crowd had gathered around Thor, listening to him speak on some battle or other. The Warriors Three had a table, along with Sif and were speaking amongst themselves. Loki turned to greet an ambassador from somewhere and be congratulated and when he turned around, Sigyn was being sat at a table of elves. He walked up quietly and caught the last of the ambassador's words.

"—and I can't tell you how interested we are in your work with the veteran soldiers," she was saying. "We have faced similar problems in our battles and very often the soldiers have had problems receiving help."

Sigyn flushed becomingly. "It has been a pleasure to help the soldiers. You saw little Gwyneth at the wedding. You might say she started it. But it was Odin's planning and foresight that made the funding possible."

"I see," said the ambassador. "And the healers were volunteering their time before then?"

"Yes," Sigyn nodded. "Right now we are looking for ways to increase the budget and to expand, but we need skilled healers." She smiled and nodded her head. "I have been considering doing some kind of expanded apprenticeship that would allow the apprentices a small sum in exchange for serving, but I don't have all the details yet."

Loki cleared his throat. "Sigyn, perhaps we should finish greeting our guests?"

Sigyn gaped for a moment. "My dear, you are right, of course. I must be excused."

"Of course," the elf tittered with amusement. "So long as before we leave we can exchange ideas. Your healing centers are a good idea that we would like to implement and perhaps we can provide healers for a short time to see how they are run...?"

Loki opened his mouth but Sigyn smiled and said simply, "We can try, but my husband invariably chooses to surprise me and whisk me away." She stood beside Loki, offering flowers to everyone at the table. "And we are just married..."

"Of course. We will exchange letters then."

"Excuse us," Loki said simply and sketched a bow. Leading Sigyn to another table he whispered, "I thought that you were supposed to be with ___me_?"

Sigyn bit her lip. "Of course, my darling. I simply got carried away." She swayed gently to the music as they walked to the next table.

It was late in the afternoon before Loki and Sigyn were able to escape to their apartments. Odin and Frigga were milling around, as was Thor and his little band so none of the guests were neglected or lacked company.

Sigyn swayed still as though she could hear the music. Loki smiled at her silliness and whirled her around in the empty hallway. For a few moments, they danced slowly and gently. Then a cheer was heard from the party and again they pulled a bit apart and continued.

Loki tucked her hand in his arm again. "We are going to my apartments. There is a chamber adjoining mine for you and your finery has been moved there." He brushed a kiss on her cheek. "It is Thor's gift to us that we will this entire hall to ourselves for a fortnight."

Sigyn looked surprised. "Oh?"

Loki nodded. "He is staying in one of the guest chambers to allow us privacy." Loki pulled open the door and led Sigyn inside. A tray was waiting of delicacies, pastries and candies. A brightly wrapped package of chocolate covered strawberries sat on the table. The fireplace was roaring and candles were lit. He gestured and the fire died down.

Sigyn wrapped her arms around him. "Oh my love, you are mine at last."

Loki chuckled. "Has the waiting been so terrible? I have scarcely seen you and every moment has been—"

"Awful!" she giggled as she kissed him. "If I did not have the healing place, I should have gone mad waiting for this day."

Sigyn smiled and undid the veil. Loki's hands were ready to receive it and then he undid the laces on her dress. Quite easily, their clothes landed on the floor and he pushed her to his bed. Only afterward, as night began to fall and Sigyn napped peacefully in his arms, Loki's hand wandered over her now swelling belly. For a moment, it seemed as though her belly were strangely cool. She shifted in her sleep and he withdrew his hand with a frown.

The fortnight passed quickly as they lazed about the apartments. Loki showed her the bathing chambers he shared with Thor. Sigyn giggled as he described the immense room to her—mirrors on one wall with wood frames to resemble windows, marble columns and marble tiles in a mosaic on the floor and a special, small tub fed directly from a hot spring for extremely hot water. The hot spring water would then overflow into the huge sunken pool. In the middle it was up to Loki's waist and at the ends it was up to his shoulders and was long enough for several strokes of swimming. There was a long, marble topped table at one side of the pool for the princes to be massaged. A smaller room on the other side of the pool was heated by rocks that had been baked in a fire and then water poured over them, which seemed rather boring and pointless to Sigyn until Loki undressed her on one of the benches. They spent time on the balcony speaking quietly of various things as he watched the starlight in the skies. Another afternoon was spent in the private gardens that the brothers had trained in as youths, laying in the grass and feeling the sun bake into their skin. Loki picked up a stick then and Sigyn laughed as he guided her through one of the basic exercises in swordplay.

It was on the last evening as they supped nude in front of the fire when Loki brought forth a tiny box. "My love, this is something that I have made for you," he said.

Sigyn grinned and took the box. She shook it lightly and listened to the rattle. She poked and prodded the box but it remained stubbornly silent about its contents. Finally she opened it and felt inside.

"A...rock?" She frowned expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"Not just any rock," Loki said. He took a book from his numerous bookshelves and set it before her. Guiding her hand, he had her palm the "rock" and skim it over the words on the page.

Sigyn's face was shocked. "I...I can...see it." Her hand flew over the page again. "I see the words in my mind. And there—there is the illustration of the white hind and the hunter." Again her hand skimmed the page. "Loki..."

"I thought you might want to have some small thing to do as our son grows." He shrugged modestly but grinned wickedly. "And I _do _have a few recommendations."

"I can read stories to our children," Sigyn whispered. The words formed perfectly in her mind—even the large, elaborate initial letters for the chapter. "I can...read." With a squeal she launched at him, knocking him backward and covering his head with kisses. "My love—how could you have known that this is what I mourned losing the most? And you have—somehow—made it right..."

"I will escort you to the library," he said with a smile. "Tomorrow morning..." His hand ran over her hip. "After all, this is the last night..."

Thor was eager to be back in his rooms and rose early to begin moving back to his quarters. The married couple had been conspicuous in their absences from court and in their orders to be left alone. Odin had been consulted, but he smiled at Frigga and simply waved the concerns away. But the fortnight had passed and it was time to begin anew with Sigyn as his sister by marriage.

Loki was coming out of his own apartments—fully clothed, despite the reports that he had fully abandoned clothing entirely. Sigyn was wrapped hastily in what appeared to be sheet or cloak and kissed him swiftly before he shut the door in the face of her laughter.

"Brother," Thor beamed. "Married life becomes you."

Loki nodded at the compliment. "It has been a most relaxing fortnight," he said with a smile.

"Good," Thor nodded, shifting his bundle of armor and the like. "I hope that it continues to agree with you. Long life and happy marriage."

"And you have risen early to bid me such good greetings?" Loki asked with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Only to move back into my apartments. However, Father has asked that we join him in his study after breakfast."

"I will be there," Loki nodded with a grimace.

"All good things end," Thor said sympathetically.

Then there was a bloodcurdling shriek from Loki's apartments. Loki actually ducked at the outrage and Thor dropped his bundle to race to the door. Loki's hand shot out to stop him.

"_LOKI_!" Sigyn bellowed most impressively through the door for someone who had been carefully quiet. "Where are my _CLOTHES_?!"

Loki's smile curled upwards in a devilish grin. "I was wondering when she'd discover that."

Thor glared in good humor at his brother. "What did you do?"

"I moved her clothes from one dresser to another," he shrugged. "I told her to go back to bed until I had broken my fast and seen to the day's activities. Then I was to take her to the library."

"And she cannot see them," Thor reasoned with an eyebrow cocked just so.

Another shriek sounded from the bedroom and something thumped against the bedroom door. Then there was silence.

"Go back to bed like you promised," Loki called in a sing-song voice to the silent door. He grinned wickedly at Thor. "Might I suggest that we go see what Father wants?"

Thor looked at the door carefully. He was about to agree when the doorway opened and Sigyn stepped out—clad in a pair of Loki's pants (which were backwards) and one of his shirts which dripped off of her frame and yet hugged her belly.

Loki's eyes bugged out. "Sigyn," he said with a frown. "I thought you were to go to bed."

"I will go break my fast," Sigyn sniffed.

"Not like that!" Loki snapped.

"___You_poofed my clothes, so this is what I have," she snapped back.

"Good morn, Sigyn," Thor greeted carefully. He pointedly kept his eyes on her forehead, rather than in the view that the open laces of Loki's shirt afforded him.

Sigyn flushed in surprise and then gaped a bit like a fish. "Th-th-th-Thor," she stammered. "Good morn to you as well. Forgive me—I was just returning to the room." And she beat a rather hasty retreat and slammed the door again.

Loki burst into laughter outright and Thor flushed. He tried to sound stern as he said, "That was hardly a pleasant trick for the mother of your child, Loki." But he scarcely got the words out of his mouth before he laughed as well.

"Read your books, dearest," Loki called as he began walking down the hallway again.

Thor picked up his gear and headed to his own doorway. Perhaps it was time for him to consider moving his apartments—perhaps to the next floor. Sigyn and Loki seemed to have developed a penchant for noise as well as drama.

Loki stopped long enough to order a hearty breakfast taken to the Princess Sigyn. The maid curtseyed and hurried off as they went to dine with Odin and Frigga.

"Good morning, Mother, Father," Loki said, picking up a peach and peeling it with a slender paring knife.

"Good morning, son," Frigga smiled. "I am glad to see you." She looked around. "But where is Sigyn? We have much to discuss about the shelter and-"

"She is resting in our room," Loki answered. He grimaced and whispered meaningfully to Thor, "I hope."

Thor laughed outright and could not meet the eyes of anyone at the table. "It seems to me to be a hazard of married life that you are at her mercies as well," he observed.

Loki looked at him seriously and without a trace of humor. "Do you suppose-?" he swallowed heavily. "She would not...?"

"Would not what?" Frigga asked innocently.

"My...my books-" Loki blanched.

Odin and Frigga looked at each other and then Loki curiously. "What about your books? New volumes arrived not three days ago..."

Thor laughed again. "What Loki is not saying is that he has apparently..._convinced _Sigyn to rest in their rooms by moving her clothes. She is confined to their apartments until either he relents or until she find them. _And _she is with his precious bookshelves."

"Oh my-" Frigga frowned and could not finish the words. "Will she be all right?"

"Her?!" Loki blustered. "What about-gah!" He threw down his napkin and pushed his plate away. "I have left her provided for..."

Thor howled with laughter as Odin raised his eyebrows in the particularly fierce I-am-going-to-lecture-you-until-you-beg-for-mercy look. "Loki... Of course you would know Sigyn better than anyone here, but she is an active lady who has found a place and duties to attend to."

Loki scowled and snatched his goblet. With a glare at the table in general he snapped, "Aye—duties and work abound. But have any of you thought of the child? How she will need to rest and to eat rather than constantly chase around Asgard?" He took a hearty swallow and glared again. "And of the soldiers she is working with—who knows _what _they may be ill with that might harm the child?"

Frigga looked abashed. "I had not thought of that... We were so relieved to have found such a need that she could fulfill." She looked sorrowfully at Loki. "We will find ways that she can stay here and still do what she loves." She poked at the eggs on her platter with her fork. "It would be better if she could sew or paint or read or something..."

Loki nodded. "It was my wedding gift to her. I gave her an enchanted rock that would allow her to read pages in a book. I left her books and sent a servant with a breakfast tray so that she could rest this morn." He swallowed another gulp of wine. "Yet now I worry that her temper will flare-"

"Your books," Frigga nodded.

Odin smiled. "The answer is simple, though." All eyes turned towards him. "As a princess, she would be expected to attend the concerns of the people of Asgard. In...other circumstances, I would expect each of your wives to take a turn listening to the concerns of the realms. Why not have her sit with you as you do your turn today? It will ease your mind that she is within your reach as well as allowing her something to do with her mind."

Loki smiled as he considered it. There would be the undeniable relief that he would have her in his sights all the while and he would be sure of her activities. She would be sitting and listening, rather than hieing off with Frigga. Or worse yet, _Sif—_who might yet relish having Sigyn cornered while he was occupied. He turned the situation around in his mind. "She is not familiar with statecraft," he noted absently.

"She could learn," Frigga said in the same absent tone.

Odin nodded. "It will do the people good as well to see her. I'm sure she is still radiant in her motherhood." He took a hearty swill of wine. "And it will give the people time to know her before she is confined for the delivery."

"We should announce that quickly," Frigga nodded. "It should not seem as though we were ashamed."

"I will trust you to take that in hand," Odin replied to her, then he addressed the table at large. "However, there is one more thing that I would speak to all of you about."

All eyes again turned towards the Allfather. For a moment, his massive shoulders were bowed as though he bore the entire nine realms on them. Then he straightened and said softly. "The Odinsleep is coming soon. I would have my subjects know that their safety is assured." He looked sorrowfully at them. "Would that I could have two thrones that both of you could have one. However, I have the one throne and that is a heavier burden than either of you truly know.

"Both of you have made me proud. Thor—you have been glorious on the field of battle. Loki—you are an indispensable tactician and your ways of negotiating what is best for Asgard are second to none. It has been a most...perplexing and delightful problem to decide between you two who will succeed me."

Odin's eye gazed with fondness at Thor. "In light of the Frost Giants and the recent attacks, I must choose you, Thor."

Thor swallowed heavily and nodded solemnly.

"When will the glorious day take place?" Loki asked insolently.

"I have decided that it will take place on the first of Heyannir—the time when we harvest what we have sown. And I would hazard that I have sown well to have such fine sons."

"That is when Sigyn's child will be close at hand," Thor noted. "Is it...perhaps an unfortunate time?"

Odin looked at Thor. "I would rather have it sooner than later. The Odinsleep I have cheated to witness the last years with you is hunting me now, but I do not regret it. I have been amazed at your skill, your cunning and your bravery. It has been a honor to have had such a valiant defender as my son. However, Loki and Sigyn came first—even before you were crowned." At last he looked at Loki. "It is to your benefit that your guarantor gains the crown."

"Perhaps," Loki gritted out. "But forgive me if, as I don't intend to go off to fight in battles and leave Sigyn behind in the first place, it doesn't necessarily feel like it." He dropped his goblet with a clank. "I must leave to fetch Sigyn if she is to sit with me."

Sigyn was smirking at the book that Loki had left on the table. Several of the volumes were of magic—strange words and incantations that left her head aching. This one was new—only three days in Loki's hands—and what an eye-opening book it was. Even without the lurid and graphic illustrations, the words alone and what they suggested were...wickedly arousing. Undoubtedly this was the book she was meant to be reading in his absence.

The door crashed open and she heard the sharp rap of boots on the floor. She turned a little towards the door. "Loki? Is that you?"

Loki growled at her. For a moment his eyes turned red as he considered her calmly sitting on the bed wearing naught but a thin sheet and reading. With a cruel swipe, he brushed the book out of her hands and it landed with a thud against the wall. Tearing at the sheet, he dragged the sheet away and drug her legs around him. He hissed at her hands as they came up to touch him and with a nod made his clothing vanish. Mounting her, he heard her moan and paid attention to little else but the burning in his veins. His release came almost without sweetness and brought no peace to his mind.

The little catch in Sigyn's panting breaths gave him pause as he released her and went to clean himself. "My...my love? What has happened?"

He did not turn towards her at all. He almost said ___Thor was chosen as king and I hate it. I hate that I have never been enough in Odin's eyes. I hate that the only reason that he has even noticed me is because of_you ___and if I were still alone I would have had to hear about Thor's coronation that much sooner. _Instead, he growled something unintelligible.

Sigyn bit back her tears. Her ankles and thighs ached and she was hurting inside. He had never been so rough with her. His hands had been so cold that it had hurt to have him hold her and so tight that she though that she was going to scream. What on Asgard had happened to the mischievous lover from just hours ago? Gingerly she curled up again on the bed, freezing in the chilly air and fumbled for her blanket.

A dress came and smacked her side. "Get dressed," Loki ordered. "It is meet that you will attend the audiences with me today."

"As you wish," Sigyn whispered softly. Loki rang a bell somehow—perhaps a pull or rope that she had passed by—and Memnet came bustling in. In no time, she was dressed, her hair brushed and she was ready to be at Loki's side.

Loki led a much subdued Sigyn through the palace, whispering to her. "You will not be required to render either judgment or verdict. You will sit and smile and listen attentively to each petition. _I _and I alone will render the verdict. If you need to leave briefly, you may, but then you will return until the shift is done." Sigyn only nodded in response.

Thor met them in the hallway. "My brother, I would speak with you."

Sigyn shuddered and a brief aura of static shock bolted out of her hands and towards Thor. Thor braced for the impact but it was more flash than sizzle and felt as though he had run through deep carpets to have static coursing though him. She turned pale and backed away, to be stopped by Loki's hand gripping her elbow.

Thor grimaced. His brother's face was a tight mask that almost hid his fury. Sigyn's solemn features gave only the slightest hint of her confusion and whatever else she was feeling. Not for the first time, he cursed the scars formed a bland and emotionless mask. "Bother—Loki...," He gestured down the hallway and spoke softly. "Allow Sigyn to return to your rooms and, if you must, vent your anger on me."

Loki felt the growl low in his throat. "Is that an order, ___Sire__?_"

"Hardly," Thor said gently. "There is no reason for you to be angry. You and your family will always be in my care—none of you will want." He sighed and tried again to placate Loki. "Let Sigyn go and take me to task. It is unworthy of you to-"

"To _what?!_"

"To take your temper to one who has no idea of why you are angry," Thor said even more softly.

Loki finally looked at Sigyn. While she did not pull away from his grasp, she was as far as his hand would allow. There was a scrape on one cheek and her wrists were showing signs of struggle. She worried her lip with her teeth and seemed ever so slightly to crouch to protect her stomach. He released her and she almost fell. With an angry sigh, he said, "Go back—I will deal with this." He flicked his wrist angrily and a servant appeared. "Take the princess back to my room. Find Memnet and allow her to bathe and rest."

It was no small annoyance that the servant took one look at him and hurriedly pulled Sigyn away from him as though he was a monster. Sigyn turned towards him slightly—had she eyes, she would have been looking over her shoulder at him but whether those eyes would be full of love or pity or terror he could not say. She allowed the servant to lead her hastily away, though.

Thor stood silently, watching as well. He had known that Loki would take it badly. Of course, he had known for so long that he was the choice of Odin. Odin had always believed warriors did not hide behind falsehoods and illusions—but had seemed to soften as Sigyn and her child came into their lives. At last he said, "Loki—I am sorry-"

"Sorry for what?" Loki sneered, glaring at Thor. "Sorry for being the favored child? Sorry for depriving me of any of the glory? Truly it escapes me what you could be sorry for!"

"There is but one throne," Thor protested. "And Odin is old and set in his ways. He believes still that a king must be strong and...well..." He shrugged. "It is as his father and his father's father would have done it."

"It must be so ___nice_to always be the biggest and to always get what you want," Loki sneered. "So ___pleasant_to get with one nod of your head what it takes others lifetimes of achievement to only fall short of."

"But we can change this," Thor insisted. "Allow Father to have his way in this—to make his time before the Odinsleep peaceful." He looked at Loki's murderous gaze. "At the coronation, I will name Sigyn's child my heir and you as my regent as I swore to you. We will still split the audiences of the day as we do now..."

Loki glared at him. "Do not tease me in this matter, Thor."

"I promise you. I swear that this is what shall be. Let us be brothers and not tear Asgard or ourselves to bits in this matter."

"Father will banish you for such..._blasphemy_," Loki said with a gleam in his eye.

Thor looked at the floor for a moment. Perhaps Loki's humor had returned with such an acidic comment. Then he looked at his brother again. "For all of our sakes, let us do as Father wills and then, when I am king—we can find a better way..."

Loki only nodded thoughtfully. Then he looked down the hallway again. "I shall be late for my audiences if I tarry further."

Thor nodded. ___Please, consider my words, my brother,_he silently begged. "I will not keep you then. At noontime, I will exchange places."

"At noontime." Loki walked stiffly to the audience chamber.

Loki moped through the audiences. There was no other word for it. Part of him railed against the Norn, against the dark and malicious fate he was born to. Part of him whimpered to go back to Sigyn and see to her—to soothe her with charming words and little gifts. And somehow, somewhere, there was a part of him that simply wanted to hide—craven and cowardly and simple as that was. So, he attended to his people with half an ear and his attention wandering elsewhere in the palace like a lost child.

And the docket was in no way interesting—three small crimes, a contract negotiation, greetings of an ambassador who was due to leave in two days for Alfheim, a few other squabbles, a messenger or two, and a handful of the obligatory greetings of groups of people... Nothing really struck his fancy or interest, allowing that wayward attention to wander further.

"-and we would gift these flowers to the Princess Sigyn," said the ambassador from Alfheim. She smiled and one of her entourage brought forward an immense bouquet of lilies. "We will be, of course, forwarding contracts so that we can work together on healers and sanctuaries for our wounded warriors."

Loki started slightly, caught ___again _paying only half attention. He came forward to receive the gift. "I will send for her at once," he said apologetically and with a wave of his hand. In a credible time, she appeared again with a polite smile and clothed in a dress with long sleeves that hid her fading bruises. A jauntily placed hat with a short lacy veil hid her face. "My love, the ambassador from Alfheim..."

"Your Highness," the ambassador greeted warmly. "If you do not recognize my voice, we met at your wedding. We spoke briefly about setting up healing sanctuaries-"

"For the soldiers," she nodded. "Of course I remember." She flushed becomingly and modestly. "We meant to offer places for apprentice healers here so that they could learn about how we ran the shelters."

"We prefer the term 'Sanctuaries'," the ambassador said fluidly. She stepped forward. "Regrettably, I must hasten home as my daughter-by-marriage is expecting her first. I will send messengers to complete our plans and next spring we will begin." She curtseyed and offered the bouquet. "I would like to extend our congratulations again and to offer you these flowers as a token of our friendship."

Sigyn took them and murmured her thanks as Loki took her elbow. She buried her face in the blooms so that no one could see the slight tug at her mouth—the grimace of pain that she couldn't suppress. Thankfully, the ambassador was ready to leave and said her good-byes.

Loki waved for a servant to take the flowers and another to bring a chair and cushion. As soon as the two servant women saw Sigyn, the frowns on their faces cleared and they smiled and hastened to make her comfortable. He frowned as one of the Star Guard unbent so far as to offer her his hand for her to step up to her chair.

Sigyn bent to Loki and whispered. "Is it always like this? You'd think that I was the first to bear a babe, there are so many offering their aid."

Loki chuckled darkly. "Ahh—that is the sweetness. Now comes the drudgery of listening to the complaints."

Sigyn sat to his right and unexpectedly, his attention was soothed and he was able again to focus fully. The contract—one that supplied the warriors of Asgard with wool for cloaks—was luckily fully negotiated and took little more than his witness. A messenger brought word from the northern borders that no activity had been noted. Loki's lips twitched as he noted how she fought to keep from yawning or fidgeting.

"Your Highness," said the clerk. He coughed and corrected himself, "Oh! Ah...Highness_es_. There are several who would like to meet and offer their congratulations today. Shall I work them into the schedule or invite them back another time?"

"Word travels fast," Loki observed wryly. "What do you think?"

Sigyn thought for a moment. "Do not allow any who are expecting to be met at a given time to be delayed, but well-wishers can be worked in I should think."

"As you say," Loki said with a wave.

At first, it was one or two people who offered congratulations and well-wishes—the two maids that Sigyn had met her first day at the palace who came to apologize for their rudeness, a guard who guided her to her rooms one day who had a blind son. Word seemed to filter through and then three cooks offered her a snack of cakes and drink with their compliments. The dressmaker came forward to thank her for her patronage—and to offer her services should the princess require more garments in the way of taste and fashion. At last even Cora came forward to send the regards of all those at the shelter, along with another bouquet of wildflowers. And all who came forward offered thanks and good wishes to him as well.

Sigyn smiled at the bouquet, asking hurried questions of Cora—had the cellar work begun, was the well working as planned, how was Jonathan's arm. The healer's assistant beamed at her, glad to see her friend. Even the clerk who was undoubtedly coming to announce the next party paused to see Sigyn thanking Cora for her troubles and smiled his approval.

Loki sat back, lazily watching as she spoke softly with Cora. It was in his head to clear his throat or make some interruption so that they could hasten through the duties of the day, but Sigyn seemed replete and content to speak with everyone. Truthfully, as Loki's eye wandered outdoors he saw that it was nearly time for Thor to take over. The hours had flown past with Sigyn at his side. That he had been blessed and congratulated and so on for these hours had soothed some sting in his ego as well.

"Loki," Sigyn began. "Would you excuse me for only a moment?" She flushed and gestured towards the door.

"Of course, my dear," he purred. "Do you wish to return here or go rest in our rooms?"

"I will only be a moment and return," she grinned back at him.

Loki waved for a servant to lead her away. A gentlemanly older fellow came forward and offered his elbow. Sigyn spoke softly to him—some compliment or other—and he smiled and flushed a little in pleasure. Loki frowned, not liking the bite of jealousy—but then felt himself ashamed as Sigyn turned towards him and blew him a kiss.

Loki brooded, waiting for her to return. These wild swings of jealousy were not new to him—indeed, he had felt them his whole life for none other than his brother. But the fact that he would swing so hard one way and then another was unsettling. And, it made him vulnerable—_too vulnerable_.

Hard on that thought came the thought of Frost Giants. His father had told him so many frightening stories that he had at one point had almost constant nightmares of them wiping out his entire family. Were they even now plotting some invasion? Would they harm Sigyn or would it be some worse torment?

Thor stood in the doorway, watching Loki stare at nothing and wait for Sigyn. "Brother," he greeted. "How goes it?"

Loki started and sat straighter, looking at his elder brother. "It goes well."

"You seemed lost in thought," Thor observed. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled. "Mooning over your love already? She has only been gone a few moments."

"Hardly," Loki snorted defensively, which only caused Thor to smile harder. "Although I think that having Sigyn sit with me might have been a mistake."

"Oh?" Thor teased again. "I would think her company would make the time fly by more quickly."

"She is a balm to these hours," Loki agreed. "Truthfully, the time has never flown so quickly."

"I saw that you had many who wished to speak with you," Thor said. "Is there any ill news?"

"Well-wishes and congratulations, but no ill news." Loki fought against his childhood habit to bite at his nails as he thought. "I do not like that we have heard nothing of the Frost Giants. To have had so many incursions and then to have suddenly stopped—it seems too easy."

Thor frowned and nodded. "Almost as if they had found what they sought."

"But nothing goes missing," Loki insisted. "We have had no complaints of thefts, the weapons vault has been unmolested, the wizards guild reported no complaints..." He frowned at nothing. "If they have found something, they have not moved it. Nor has there been another attempt on Sigyn."

Thor swallowed heavily. "Loki—I love both you and Sigyn. Is there any small chance that she is...well, ___beholden _to them? Some spell that will compel her to do Asgard ill?"

Loki's emerald eyes went wide for a moment before snapping green fire. "I think _not_!" he growled. "I myself have checked her every evening for injury or spell-hurt and the only thing that I have found is her penchant for ___fireworks_." Thor looked confused and Loki sighed, "Sometimes her sparks cause her to have some slight burn on her fingertips."

"I thought as much," Thor agreed heartily. "Sigyn is too good in her heart to wish us ill. I had been worried, but I am relieved."

Loki growled again and nodded. "I think we will not find what we seek here on Asgard. I think we should go and see what Jotunheim is about."

"Loki," Thor warned. "That is far too dangerous. Father would never allow it."

"If we forestall an invasion, then he will thank us," Loki replied.

"True—but he will still punish us."

Loki only nodded, again plotting and knotting his thoughts. Sigyn reappeared, looking somewhat refreshed and more comfortable. If she was startled at Thor's appearance in her absence, she gave no sign as her hand was set in Loki's elbow. There was a brief moment as they went over the host of activities today and then they left.

"My love," Loki said as they walked down the hallway. "I...I am sorry for treating you so ill this morning."

Sigyn stumbled a little over nothing. "I... Wh-what happened?"

"I lost my temper," he grimaced. "Thor is the chosen one to become king." He looked at her. She did not seem relieved or happy or any of the normal reactions that he had come to expect when people heard news about Thor. Usually the maids cheered and bounced up and down in their happiness. Instead, this little one brushed closer and only nodded a little. "I was...overwrought," he added lamely.

She only nodded again. After another turn down another hallway, she said. "I should like to rest. The morning was exciting for me and I wish to think about what you have said."

Loki felt his mouth go dry. ___Dammit. _Instead of cursing, he only said, "Allow me to take you to the bedroom, then." A plan crystallized in his head and almost without thinking, he lied, "I cannot rest. There are some few things that I must go do." Sigyn accepted his words without question and he winced at the lie. "I will wake you when I return and apologize properly."

The spell components were easily gathered from his study and he was easily concealed. A lifetime of ducking into shadows and around corners played well into his intentions. Quite quickly, he found himself on a frozen plateau of Jotenheim.

He sucked in a deep breath. The others complained often that the first breath of the air here seared the lungs with cold, but he had never found it so. Great icebergs slowly turned overhead, occasionally plowing together into sharp shards of ice. It seemed dark but whether that was only because Asgard was so blindingly bright was a matter for debate. The frost made lacy patterns here and there—like frozen flowers. This place even had a strange sort of charm—the sort of dark, solitary charm that drives men into desserts and up mountains to allow their minds to expand and to simply ___think_.

He reached to pull his hood up over his ears when a Jotun approached him. "Halt in the name of Laughey!" he barked with glee.

"I had no intention of going anywhere but ___to _Laughey," Loki snorted, but let his hands fall. "So if you would be a good...fellow and lead me, I would be obliged."

The Jotun frowned a little with a slightly perplexed moue on his lips. Then with a grunt, he poked his club into Loki and they walked to Laughey's throne.

Loki sauntered with nonchalant grace, but was continually aware of the curious eyes that followed him. It seemed that he could not pass an icy crag without some portion of it moving and walking along for a while. The impulsive plan seemed...somewhat ill-advised now.

A great blue bulk with gleaming ruby eyes lounged on an immense icy throne, watching him with interest. "What business do you have here, ___Odin's__son_?" a female voice laughed.

"I'll discuss this with Laughey," Loki replied.

The female rose to her full, towering height and then she...___shifted__. _There was no other word for it—all of her feminine curves became masculine planes. Another Frost Giant joined, but then did the reverse—the masculine muscles becoming softer and more curved and finally feminine. Or at least as feminine as several tons of ice elemental could become anyway. She stood to one side of the throne, looking on silently.

Loki smirked, but said nothing.

"So what business does Odin's son have with Jotenheim?" Laughey growled. In the masculine form, the scars on his face were more visible and striking than when they were hidden in a wealth of long silvered hair that vanished with the feminine curves.

For a moment, Loki couldn't help but stare in wonder. He had assumed the ability to shift gender had been an art he alone had mastered. Now it seemed to be a shared trait here. Something—some small thought—tugged at his mind, but he ignored it as he tried to think of what to say next. He sketched a bow. "I have only to ask a few questions and I will be on my way."

The immense female made some slight sound and Laughey waved at her in what seemed to be a negative answer. "So you would break the treaty between Asgard and Jotenheim to get these answers? They must be weighty questions indeed," Laughey laughed. Around him, other giants laughed, their breath coming out in great puffs.

"I could always bring Thor," Loki sniffed.

Laughey only laughed harder and soon most of the other giants were at least chuckling. "And do you think ___that _would make a difference?"

Loki shrugged. "Perhaps. But it would be a shame to see so much of your...city ruined in the process when all I ask are a few answers and then I will be on my way." He made a slight tsk. "And I believe that we can all agree that Thor would ruin the city."

The laughter faded into grunts and grumbles. Laughey was still smirking. "A point for you." He shrugged and glanced at the female. "I will grant you three questions that I will answer in exchange for a boon."

"What kind of boon?" Loki asked before he could think.

Laughey laughed again. "Very well—an interesting first question." Then his scarred face hardened. "I want the Cask of Eternal Winter restored to us."

"Impossible," Loki snorted. "I could not stir it and it is guarded night and day."

"Not impossible for _you_," the female giant said with a lilt in her voice.

Loki smirked at her in what he hoped was a winning smile. Laughey only grinned at her and said, "Faubrati...enough."

She bowed and sat back down in the shadows to watch.

"Next question," Laughey said, propping his less injured cheek on his hand and waving Loki on.

"Why do you seek Sigyn?" he blurted.

"The Asgardian female?" Laughey's eyes glittered. "She has something I want." He waved his hand carelessly again. "But I will let her keep it for a while longer."

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly and he considered his last question. It bothered him that he truly knew little more than he had when he began. What on Asgard did Sigyn have that interested Laughey so much he was willing to be so open about it? Sigyn had little but a few dresses and some animals—surely not more than that. Her powers? What use would such random spellcraft be? Would she die if they were taken from her?

Would he live if she died?

This was getting him nowhere quickly. He had breezed through two of his three questions and was no closer to the information he sought than before he had come. And no one knew of his little side-trip—so no one would miss him until likely after dinner. ___If then._

He gritted his teeth, willing himself to remain calm and collected. He had one more question to go. So should he ask right out what it was that sparked the attacks? A thousand not-helpful potential answers crowded his mind, and he discarded the question. Should he ask what would stop the attacks? Again, a thousand little answers crept around him as he considered potential answers.

"Who else would know of what you seek?" he asked finally.

Laughey grinned a bone-chilling smile and his fanged teeth shown white in the dark shadows. "Odin," he said at last. At Loki's dumbfounded expression, he only smiled wider. "Odin Borson would know what I seek—_and why_."

Loki frowned at that. What did that mean? Changing tactics, he asked, "You realize that I cannot simply go and hand you the Casket?"

Laughey smiled serenely at him. "That's ___four _questions, Odin's son, but I am generous and will answer anyway." His teeth gleamed in the shady darkness. "I know that if you do—an army will rise to your command. And that's what you ___really _want, isn't it? To be on the throne of Asgard?" Laughey shrugged. "You do not have to believe me. You can say that it is all lies. But _why _would I lie? The _truth _is so much more..._entertaining._" Laughey gestured again. "And you can keep the Asgardian female—_Sigyn—_if you like. She and her pitiful powers are of no importance."

Loki snorted. "I see."

Faubrati shifted—a great mountain of shadow—and stared at Loki in a hungry way that made his skin crawl. She seemed about to say something—something hovered on her lips—but then thought the better of it. Laughey only grinned at her.

Loki sketched another shallow bow. "I see that word of your _generosity _has failed to reach my ears," he said with only a trace of sarcasm.

Faubrati smiled at him. Somehow it was warm—different than the hungry smile she had shown before. "I think that you could do anything if you truly wished it," she said. "Even open the Casket." She shrugged. "If you wanted it badly enough." Her voice dipped into an almost seductive croon. "If you wanted..._the ____throne_badly enough."

Laughey nodded with his immense cat-like smile, which only fueled Loki's suspicions and curiosity. When the king waved him away, he smirked and said, "I think you will be waiting still for the Casket at Ragnarok. I cannot bring it to you and you cannot fetch it yourself."

"Little prince," Laughey chuckled. "You already have opened the way for us." He was still smirking when he gestured to the guards who began to poke and force Loki to back down. At last the Asgardian prince produced a whirl of magical fire around himself and vanished.

Faubrati smiled at Laughey. "He suspects, but he does not _know_," she said. "You can see it in his eyes."

Laughey laughed. "Odin has kept it from him. I swore to Odin that I would repay him in kind for taking our son and I will."

She nodded, her eyes frosting over with what might have been tears. "We lost so many years. So much time that he should have been here and made ready to march against Asgard." She stared down at her hands. "I have been watching him from a distance—magically—waiting to see when he would finally be my son again."

Laughey frowned sympathetically. "I had thought that Odin meant to sacrifice him to some heathen ancestor. I had not thought that he meant to raise him as his own."

"My son...my Abornar," Faubrati said softly.

"He is no longer Abornar," Laughey said shortly. "He is _Loki_. A prince of Asgard—and a snake in the breast of Odin."

Faubrati nodded sadly. It still haunted her. Her small Abornar had been presented at the temple. He had been small—stunted because of the privations of war with Asgard. Twelve of Laughey's elite guards had been present at the temple—ready and willing to be cut open in ritual so that Abornar would gain their collected strength and be able to lead them all against hated Asgard.

First, Laughey had cut into the throat of the first guard. The blood filled the chiseled circle in the ground to sanctify it and cleanse the area for spellwork. The second guard's blood had been used to draw the runes—on the Casket, on the floor, and on the altar. The third guard had lost his eyes which were ground to grant Abornar knowledge of the third Eye—knowledge of sorcery and his blood poured under Abornar to grant him extra strength against cold and against heat—but the sixth and seventh were the ones that would give him the power to use that knowledge. Laughey had brushed the baby in careful strokes with his knife, the scars would remain to this day when he assumed his true form. The fourth had stepped forward—to grant the first portion of height and strength—and Laughey had raised his knife to strike in the heart.

Then Odin had broken into the temple. Gungir shot out white hot heat, dazzling and terrifying as two of the elite guards seemed to melt away in front of it. The rest had tried to counter attack while Faubrati slid out the back passage and gathered others to repel the invaders. When she returned, Odin and his hated portal were already open and he was leaving with the Casket and her little Abornar. Laughey was on the ground, his mouth bloody and the burnt stripes carving his face forever and he had cursed Odin and all his kin and promised to repay this crime in kind.

As she had nursed Laughey back to health, holding him close when he shook and burying him in snow when his breath thawed, he had told her over and over again that they would make Odin pay for his crime. In that heated passion, they had plotted to take the son of Thor—the precious, golden grandchild of Odin. As Thor had grown and lacked the ambition or the need to attach to a female, that hope had dimmed. They had almost given up hope of their revenge.

For years now she had waited. At first, she was terrified he would be sacrificed or eaten or something else so terrible her mother's heart could not fathom it. Then words of "Loki" and the "Sorcerer Prince of Asgard" had begun to filter gently across the realms. With her own blood, she had enchanted a slab of clear ice to watch as he grew—for he was her son and her blood was running through those dear veins. A few times they had tried to use his hidden birthright—the Jotun blood still in his heart—to gain entry into Asgard, but Odin's wicked sorcery had been too thick and the portals became death traps rather than safe passage.

And now the little son of lost Abornar would open the way. Even if the child's blood was not Jotun enough to allow full sorcery to attach to it, it was enough to open a portal wherever the child was. There would be no place for the female to hide to stop them from taking the child. Her arms would be filled with her grandchild—and her vengeance.

Loki returned to the palace, unsettled and filled with regret for the whole adventure. He had no more answers now than when he had begun—only the certainty that Sigyn was at the heart of the unrest in the Frost Giants. And the business about asking Odin? He would be consigning himself to death to admit that he had gone without Odin's blessing, let alone to bring back whatever mix of lies and truth they had spouted.

He materialized in the room he shared with Sigyn, watching as she napped on the bed. Restlessly, she flung an arm out to his side—searching for his warmth and pulling back when she did not find him. Her belly seemed to poke out a bit more than this morn as his son grew within.

It was an oddly settling thought—that his son grew safely in her belly and she thrived in the palace. He felt a sense of pride—that he had successfully transplanted her into the hothouse of the palace rather than allowing her to grow in the rocky garden where she had been. He still needed to keep an eye on her—to prevent her from growing overtired as she worked, to see that she ate well and heartily at least as often as he did, and to see that she had friendly hands nearby to aid her—but it was more the gentle maintenance of a well-rooted plant than the constant fiddling of a thin and weak seedling.

Of course, unlike the gentle seedling—his rose had the problem of the peasantry. While he had become more popular since her arrival, it did not escape his eyes or ears that there were still pockets of ill-contents and rabble who would not be content until he was driven from them. While he did not fear some forward attack—his rose had thorns enough—it was the distant attack she would not see coming. He would have to ensure that guards carefully watched her.

Restlessly, she turned again on the bed calling for "Locca" as she did at times. He smiled and moved to lounge on the bed beside her. He let his hand drift gently over her brow, brushing back the strands of hair from her face. He could see it, here and there, that her curves were more generous. His hand trailed down her arm and, almost without thought, his hand settled on her belly.

She was definitely showing and it would quickly come the day when even the loose and high-waisted styles would not hide the fact. His hand only rested there and a small feeling of contentment grew in his belly as he thought of the small child that rested there. The little one depended on his mother for warmth and succor and nourishment without ever having seen her smile, heard her voice or felt her touch. It was a deep, unspoken bond of trust that she would do naught to risk him.

A tiny flutter—scarcely more than the feel of vibration of a drum skin—rippled against his hand. Loki frowned in confusion—was Sigyn ill again? Perhaps something she had eaten? It came again, scarcely more insistent, and Sigyn sighed in her sleep. Loki whispered and flicked his wrist and a small, green stone appeared in his palm. He gently set it against her and watched in silent amazement as it began to pulse in a dual rhythm—one in time to Sigyn's heartbeat and one in a quick tempo of the child's. The little vibration was there again and the stone stirred with a strange blink.

A kick.

Loki's eyes widened as he simply sat in amazement. His hand could not move—almost frozen to the spot.

A kick—it was his child kicking.

It was so soft that had he not been sitting right here with his hand resting on her, he never would have felt it. He would have scarcely noticed it—never seen it. Had it not been for the life-stone he had conjured and it's mysterious signals and flashes, he might have dismissed it as a rumble of her stomach. He paled for a moment, considering the little one. It was so small—so tiny to fit inside her. What would he do? It was all well and good for Thor to spout on about making this child his heir, but really—what assurance was there of that? This little one would have Sigyn, true—but she was barely able to make a living for herself on the island, how would she provide for their child if something were to happen to him?

The stone flashed again—a purple-red flash. It was a rare signal for the life-stone. Loki swallowed deeply as his eyes teared up—it was a flash of a magical life-force. The child would have deep magical skills.

Like his father...

Loki felt a tear sweep down his cheek. This child would be like...him. He wondered for a moment if he would be slightly built or short or slender. Perhaps he would take after Sigyn's father and be more muscular. What a feat that would be—a strong man with command of the magical arts who could become a warmage!

Then all of the wonder and amazement fell away and his mind was suddenly, absolutely and positively clear. All the whirling questions he had asked and all the terrible risks he had taken—it all fell into place.

Laughey wanted his child.

Loki choked on his tears. It all made a terrible sort of sense—Laughey finding her so interesting, the attacks that suddenly stopped, why Laughey had said he would let her keep the thing for a little while longer. What was a few months to a Frost Giant?

_"____But why?!"__ h_is mind screamed for answers.

His logical side answered. _"____To spite Odin. Did it matter if there was any other reason?"_

_"____No."_

_"____Why not simply kill him or his brother?"_

_"____They were too well guarded—too able to defend themselves."_

He stumbled back and away, suddenly ashamed and feeling contaminated. Sigyn started and reached out blindly and without a second thought he bespelled her to sleep again. Coldly and clinically, he drifted out of the room and softly closed the door behind himself.

_"____Rest...let her rest."_It was his only thought. _"____Can't let her know—she would go mad knowing."_For a moment, he could not breathe. _"____She will not know—cannot know—how my own hand had consigned her to death."_

He made himself as invisible as he could and simply vanished to go sit in Sigyn's private garden. The goats and chickens ignored him and he had no desire for company.

_"____The Frost Giants must die."_He felt his heart beat in his ears as his mind echoed terribly. _"____There is no other choice if Sigyn and his child are to live."_

_"____But how?"_reasonably asked his other self.

_"____Thor. Thor hates them. Odin will not move on them—he is content in the truce. The warriors would follow Odin over Thor, though. Thor is just a prince and Odin is king._

_"____Kings can do anything they want—even ignore a threat on their doorstep."_

Loki's thoughts grew dark and dreary. ___"What if there was no choice? What if we attacked during the Odinsleep? Father would not be able to gainsay the attack and Mother would be beside him—she would be safe. Would they follow then? But they would need convincing. Even Thor would need to know that there was an immediate threat."_

But that would be setting a giant loose in a china shop. Once Thor got started in a direction—it was impossible to steer him away. And Laughey would tell of his visit and ridiculous bargain without a second thought. Thor would not stop Odin from punishing him then.

His more cunning side spoke up. ___"So can it be set up so that none are the wiser? Perhaps set it up so that it appears that Laughey would be lying to save his own skin?"_

Some two days later, Loki again stood before Laughey. The other guards were waved casually away and they melted into the uniformly blue-gray landscape. Laughey grinned lazily at him. They had made the official greetings, but not a word more.

Laughey spoke first. "We have a deal already, _Asgardian_." His fang-like teeth glowed in the uncertain light. "Or do you mean to wager more?"

Loki smirked despite the patronizing tone. "Not at all—it would be a waste of my breath and time." He shrugged. "Thor becomes king in Heyannir. The entirety of Asgard will be at the palace to celebrate." He raised an eyebrow confidently. "And once he is king—once Odin is relieved of rank and duty—what do ___you _think will happen?"

Laughey grinned. "I have no idea."

Loki almost snarled. "He will be the most ruthless king Asgard has ever known and will exterminate your kind."

"Really?" Laughey laughed. "I am...trembling."

"We are quits, Giant," Loki said.

"Oh? And the Casket?"

"I leave that for you to figure out." Loki tossed his head dramatically. "You have asked for that which is not mine to give. You obviously already have the means to get into Asgard—so do it yourself."

"You have not delivered it into my hand. I would hardly call us quits."

"You told me nothing either. We are even."

Laughey laughed genuinely. His heart was cooled at the thought of his own flesh and blood trying to best him. Indeed, his blood was frozen at the thought of Odin's surprise when Loki became the Prince of Jotenheim. "You are clever, little prince." He nodded. "If I put two warriors at your command, will they be able to fetch my prize here?"

Loki thought deeply—or at least appeared to. "I would have to plan this carefully and it would not be easily done. They could die and bring back nothing."

"You could die now," Laughey offered pleasantly. "It might even win me favor in the eyes of Asgard that I did it and spared the Allfather the trouble later."

"You lie," Loki accused. "But it does not matter."

Laughey only laughed as Loki vanished.

The next days passed swiftly for Sigyn. It was not a secret she was with child and when she began to truly show, then her days were filled with joyful tidings and well wishes. Cora and Menda took time away from the sanctuaries and shelters to visit her, along with Memnet's midwife cousin. Frigga seemed be always at hand with some small task—planting flowers, arranging the nursery, sewing or some such.

Loki was as regular as a clock—coming to her at mealtimes, tea times, and for nap times. He brought her books—generally story books or books of baby things—and occasionally took her out for a ride on the water in the harbor or by leading an ancient mare he deemed well-tempered enough for her to handle. Once he brought her a puppy that bounced and yipped around, but in the end he took it back when it grabbed a book Sigyn had left on a table and began destroying it. As necessary, he brought her out to the court for a feast, but his mood was often sour and they often made excuses to leave early.

Yet when he was called to hear the complaints and petitions, he gladly brought her to his side. Together they would listen and make the judgments and address the concerns put before them. It was ironic that the time spent in audience felt like some of their closest times. Even when they disagreed, it was softly and lovingly done.

The week before Thor was to be crowned, Sigyn and Loki sat on a balcony, sipping a dark tea and eating small fruits and tidbits. Sigyn giggled as the cup in her hand almost balanced on the round of her stomach. "My darling—see? I have grown to the size of ...a horse!"

Loki shook his head. "Hardly. Horses are much bigger." He shrugged and set his cup down. "But on the plus side, your labor will soon be done and our son will soon be here. If you were a horse, you would be carrying him at least another month longer."

Sigyn huffed, feeling a kick rattle the cup in the saucer. "He will undoubtedly be the first child to split his mother open if he keeps this up."

Loki smiled sadly at that. "I had thought that the walking and such would help. If it doesn't, then we will stop."

"Nonsense," Sigyn sniffed. "I enjoy spending the time with you." She smiled sadly. "But Mother says that I will not see you scarcely at all before..."

"I will be attending meetings with the Allfather," Loki explained. "As Thor's brother and the next in line, it is expected that I should know how to handle the realms should anything happen. Not to mention that it is supposed to give us time to figure out what my role will be while Thor is here." He laughed bitterly. "Father has taken great pains to force Thor to carve out a niche for me."

Sigyn frowned. "Shouldn't that be to the good, though?"

Loki only shrugged. "I suppose. It is better than being cast out." He waved his hand and the dishes vanished. "But, I have only tonight to be with you before I am closeted with my brother for a week..."

Sigyn giggled and took his hand so that she could stand. The child was enormous inside her. Everyone who spoke with her said that he would be as big as Thor. Her back ached enormously as well, but she smiled for Loki's sake. It was a pity that fate had not reversed them and let Loki be the elder. He seemed level-headed and fair—although he brooked no disobedience and not the slightest rebellion. Thor still seemed brash and brazen and rather like a child given too large and fancy a toy. But, for all of his bluster, Thor was a likeable enough sort of fellow. He never failed to be generously polite and deferred to her in most everything. He would always carefully ask before he even came near to touching her hand—and would always make sure that there were witnesses whenever he stood near her. Time had eased her pain as little else could and they could even spend time without major mishaps or spell damage.

Loki was still speaking. "...And you will need to hold the audiences, my dear," he concluded.

"What?" Sigyn gaped and then flushed.

"We are occupied with this...ceremony. You are the one who is left to carry on," he explained. When he saw her uncertain frown, he smirked. She would undoubtedly carry on just fine, but her emotional dependence on him was soothing to his wounded ego and pride. Here, despite everything, was someone who really needed ___him._

He waved his hand. "Don't worry—you can always conclude early or send for Mother if you need to. If it is truly an emergency, then you may send for me."

"Will anyone else be there?" she whimpered.

"The Warriors Three are busy with preparations, but perhaps another of the ladies of the court could attend you?"

"Would Sif be willing?"

Loki frowned. Sif had become a silent bystander. Although she had spent more time in Sigyn's company since the princess had begun tending the soldiers, she still did not seem to overly like either of them. Still, she was loyal to Thor and, at least for the moment, had become polite and gracious. "I will see if Thor can spare her, but I would not press her if she cannot be there." He smiled. "But I have only hours before I must part—and I cannot fathom why we are not in our chambers..."

Thor was delighted to honor his sister-by-marriage and have Sif sit with her during the audiences. Sif was not particularly overjoyed, but where Thor led she followed and she consented.

So the week began. Odin lectured his sons for hours on protocol and politics and theory and strategy. He had new armor made for them both as well as providing them both rings of fine gold. He even managed to arrange for a brief hunting trip for all three of them so that they could be father and sons and brothers again. But his eye was weary and rimmed with red and his hands shook somewhat in weariness. Loki supposed that it was only a matter of time before the Odinsleep took him.

There were two days left and they all sat in the study together, looking at the collection of maps and books strewn everywhere. Odin smiled sadly at the cup of water in his hand and then looked at both of them. Thor straightened—it seemed that every time that the Allfather had moved, there was another lecture or bit of advice to be attended to. Loki looked at the great map in front of him and then up at the Allfather.

"I'm proud to call you both my sons," Odin said thoughtfully. "I cannot say how proud I am. On the one hand, I have you, Thor, who will defend Asgard and the Realm Eternal with might and valor. And on the other hand, I have you, Loki, who will ever guard against the enemies unseen and triumph in the bloodless battles of politics and intrigue." He considered his cup again and laughed without mirth. "By Bor's beard I wish that I could have found a way to divide the throne into portions so that you both would have a share."

Thor looked at Loki—blue eyes meeting cool emerald ones. With a heavy swallow he grinned in a lopsided fashion. "I would wish that we could ever remain brothers as well." He stared down, unable to meet the gaze of either his brother or his father. "I have been blessed—and to acknowledge my blessing I want to-"

A pounding echoed on the door and they heard Sif's hoarse voice screeching Loki's name. Thor's eyes went wide as he bounded to the door with Loki only a breath behind him. Thor wrenched open the door and saw Sif gasping for breath on the other side.

Sif nodded briefly at him, gasping for breath. She didn't even acknowledge Odin with more than a glance, if that much. "Loki—you must come to the audience chamber-"

"Are we under siege?" demanded Thor.

"___She_is," Sif stammered, unable to do more than grab Loki's arm. "You must come quickly."

Loki's eyes went wide and he grabbed Sif's elbow. "Take me to her," he growled softly. "Tell me all along the way."

Sif let out a wail. "It was—it got out of control." She ran along beside Loki, panting and puffing.

"What got out of control?!" demanded Odin as they all ran.

"The audiences," Sif panted. "They got out of control..."

Loki released her and vanished. Thor caught her and continued to hurry to the audience chamber. "What happened, Sif?"

"I...I had left to go train," she stammered. "It was only for an hour and Sigyn had things well in hand and then one of the guards came to fetch me. At first it was only a complaint—that Loki had bespelled someone some months ago. Sigyn had frowned and offered apologies but said that she could offer little recompense. It seemed to be resolved that she would take him to task. Then another came forward-"

"Sif, what happened?" Thor bellowed.

"When I got there, she was surrounded by people who all claimed that Loki had done them ill," Sif panted. "All of them demanded recompense and apologies..." Odin grunted angrily. "The guards had drawn close to her, but she was trying to maintain control and address them one at the time."

Thor's eyes widened at the thought and they ran faster. The crowds outside the audience room were milling around angrily and the clerk was shoved against the wall—his papers scattered and his quills broken underfoot. Angry shouts were still heard in the audience chamber and it was only Thor's and Odin's greater height that afforded them any view at all.

Sigyn sat still in the great throne on the dais. The sleeve of her dress seemed frayed or torn, but she seemed to be largely unharmed physically. Loki appeared and stood—by appearances in his battle armor and with his staff—behind her, listening. The guards were spread at the foot of the dais, unsettled and precariously close to drawing weapons. Sif gasped and reached for her weapon as another throng surged forward. Thor gestured angrily and tried to move around the crowd.

The two or three who were forward now glared at Loki. "He is the one who's spell cost me dearly. He should pay for his malice."

Sigyn's voice was shaky, but echoed nonetheless. "Can you prove that it was his spell and that it was done with malice?"

Another voice shouted. "Who else would it be?" Louder voices—male and female—agreed. "Who else is known as a God of Mischief?"

"_Silence!_" Odin called and suddenly all eyes turned towards him. The voices were silent and a thrum of fear or relief or both shot through the air. "This is not how we conduct ourselves in Asgard."

Thor nodded grimly. "I agree," he said firmly. "Let the lady have her say."

Sigyn took a shaky breath. "As to who else has magic-" She drew in a deep breath. "_I _do." She let a small fizzle of fear surge through her and fireworks erupted. She had grown better at the timing and firing of her magic—although it still eluded her how to call, say, lightning versus fire or ice. Thankfully, no one had been harmed as she had lingered in Loki's rooms, practicing. "I imagine that there are others as well." Her fingers tightened around the arm of the chair. "Who here has brought complaint to the king? Who here has not had justice done?"

There were angry grumbles but no one came forward until a scrawny fellow stepped out. "I did not bring my complaints because Loki was a prince." He frowned. "I...I didn't think a few chickens were worth it."

Loki shot a glare at the man, but it was Sigyn who spoke. "Has anyone here considered what good Loki has done?" The peasants gaped at her as the room went silent. "I have sworn fidelity and honor to Prince Loki—I will not break that vow. But while I hear of many vague complaints, I hear few praises and I hear even less concrete details. Was it not Loki that secured the wall around Asgard? Loki who...brought forth Sleipnir? Loki who first wove nets for fishing and trapping?"

"Loki almost destroyed Mjolnir!" a voice shouted.

"How? Who was there?" Sigyn fired back. "Why would Loki do such a thing when it is to his benefit—indeed, to all of our benefit for Mjolnir to be forged?"

The crowd's voices rumbled again angrily. "Everyone knows that he can shapeshift! And the bellows were stopped to get a fly out of the eye of-!"

"Oh?" Sigyn said. "And you are privy to knowing when he has or not? How do I know that you are not my _shape-shifted _lord if you have such intimate knowledge of his goings and comings?"

More rumbles. Thor glanced at Odin—along with half the crowd—and Odin only watched solemnly. Rumors and gossip had burst into a poisonous bubble that Loki's past behaviors had done little to soothe. Sigyn sighed deeply, sorrowfully.

Rising, she said softly and firmly. "I can hear your discontent. I can hear your anger and frustration. I understand that there can be confusion and ill-feelings when sorcery is involved." She tried to smile, but it failed into a grimace. The rumbles lowered and the grumbled silenced to strain to hear her words. "However, your complaints can be made open in our courts and before our king—" Her face grew solemn. "—___if you have evidence__._ Not the evidence of gossips and tale-tellers—but the fair and straightforward evidence that Asgard demands to have before besmirching a man or woman's name with accusations.

"I charge each of you to consider well what Loki has done for us. As you strive to lay blame at his door, also consider what credit should be there as well. How many times have his illusions saved lives in battle? How many times has a spell aided us?"

Sigyn straightened as small whispers and rumbles floated through the crowd. "And I said ___'spell'_. I have heard much of how Thor's strength has won battles. I have heard much of the wisdom of Odin and the courage of Asgard's warriors. These are things that I and every Asgardian are proud of. But there is a place for spell work—in healing, in divining outcomes, and yes, even in disguise or trickery.

"No amount of courage, wit, wisdom or strength—or even spells—will solve all ills. There still will remain problems to solve. Even if Loki did not walk here—" Loki straightened and looked warily at his wife. "—there would not be an end to biting flies, poor harvests, and run-away chickens. Nor would there be an end to faithless folk, to cowards in battle, to treachery against our neighbors or to shysters. There would not be an end to the problems with dark elves or frost giants."

There was a rumble in the gathered crowd again but a slow acceptance of her words seemed to echo. Thor stood warily ready opposite Loki in the room. Odin looked on solemnly, almost sadly. Sigyn stood in the middle of her guards, her shoulders drooping. "I wish that I could give you good folk of Asgard such a life—a life free from so many small ills and hurts. But I cannot. Nor, I suspect, can anyone. Do you come forward with a problem that I can help with, I will listen and try to help you. Otherwise, I will yield to the will of His Majesty."

All eyes turned in wide-eyed expectation to Odin. Odin cleared his throat importantly. "I find..." he said at last. "That Sigyn has spoken rightly. We cannot solve every small ill—there will always be trials and ___my son _is not the father of every one of them. If none can come forward with something to be rightly addressed, then I will declare audiences dismissed for the rest of the day and bid everyone to make ready for Thor's coronation."

The crowd seemed to shiver for a moment. For a breath, it seemed that everyone was watching to see what would happen. A small, nondescript man—who had blamed Loki for his milk turning sour because of the garlic growing wild in his pasture—left first with his face flaming. Then two more left. They were youths who had no particular complaint, but had wanted to watch the spectacle. The crowd broke at last, unable to face Thor and the Allfather.

Thor smiled ruefully at Sif and Sigyn as the last ones departed. Sif smiled at him warily as though it were a battle too easily won. His hand still tingled—ready to strike—but he was not ready to face Loki or his easy smirks and half-truths.

Odin simply pressed forward wearily like an old man yearning for the end of a long voyage. Going to Sigyn, he pressed his hand on her shoulder. "You have done well, child."

Sigyn took in a deep, shuddering breath and whispered. "Tell the guards to go." The guards looked alarmed and stared at the Allfather. "They have done no ill, but I should like to be alone right now."

They hastened out at Odin's nod and Thor came forward. "Are you well, Sigyn? You seem...distressed."

Sigyn let out a howl that echoed eerily in the room and fell to her knees with her fists knotted in her teeth. Whether born of despair or hopelessness, it was impossible to tell but it was swiftly followed by fiery white snakes of magic that hissed and popped like fresh wood on a hot fire. One snake wrapped around a column and scraped the marble with thin grooves while another slammed against a table and burnt it instantly to a crisp.

Sif fell back with a shout as one tendril drifted to her. She drew her sword and then stopped with a glance at Thor. Thor knelt—stock still—beside Sigyn. As she regained her senses, she saw that while Sigyn's magic destroyed the few furnishings in the room—mainly benches, chairs, the table and desk. It wrapped in wide circles around everyone there. Even the Allfather with his hand still on her shoulder was safe as though wrapped in a shield neither seen nor felt.

Sigyn screamed again and all of the tendrils joined and rose like dragons towards the ceiling. As one, they slammed against the floor again—at Loki's feet. By scarcely inches, they missed the toes of his boots—only scalding the leather with heat.

Sigyn panted heavily, sweat dripping from her brow as though she had run the entire length of the rainbow bridge and back. Licking the sweat from her lips, she simply wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking back and forth.

Odin stared at the damage around him, sniffing the smells of charred wood and rock. Thor glanced around warily as though he were almost afraid to move. Sif stood warily, dusting herself off. None of them would look at Loki—who stood just behind where the audience throne had stood—a great ring of ash around his foot.

"Is everyone all right?" Sif asked softly. Devoid now of furnishings and people, even a soft voice echoed in the room.

"We are all well, Sif," Thor answered softly. He stared at the intricate design of ash around Loki sadly.

Loki took a deep gulp of air and it almost singed his throat. The air felt choking and hot and full of things he did not dare admit to feeling. Whether he had been wrong or right—doing ill or doing fair—he had done nothing that he could recollect that deserved this defense of his pride and his abused sense of honor. And now he did not dare move closer for fear that he might break.

It was Odin who squeezed Sigyn's shoulder and gently took her hand to help her rise to her feet. Thor shrugged out of his cloak and wrapped it around her shivering form, swathing her in crimson that looked like fresh blood.

"Little sister," Thor said with a forced smile. "I am reminded to always mind my ways to be regarded well in your eyes."

"I have no eyes," Sigyn said bitterly as Thor blanched. She nodded thoughtfully. "I did not mean to destroy everything though."

"It can be replaced," Odin said softly.

"All of it was dreadfully old," Thor added, trying to sound lighthearted. "Splinters and cracks. It's why we dumped it here instead of some poor soul's room."

"That was a dreadful lie," Sigyn said softly, a ghost of a smile returning. "Every piece here was sturdy and most likely beautiful and in good repair." She sighed and shivered again. "I...am sorry. I lost my temper."

"Better the furniture than at the folk of Asgard," Odin remarked blandly. He smiled. "I remember losing my temper and striking a table in here once with Gungir." Thor's lips twitched and Loki simply stared at the Allfather. "It shattered and...here—" He drew Sigyn towards a column and pressed her fingers into a crevice in it. "A piece flew into this column and stayed there until it rotted out."

Sigyn let out a watery giggle. "Such silliness. It's a wonder you all aren't raving by now."

Odin glared at his younger son. "Loki, come forward. Sigyn needs us around her."

Loki stumbled forward, his steps lacking grace and his words frozen in his throat. Taking Sigyn's icy fingers in his own, he kissed the knuckles. They were covered with red marks like burns and her palms were scored over and over with little half moons. He stroked her palm silently.

Sigyn seemed to have choked bag a sob. "I tried to control it. At first it was one person—some silliness of how his ship drifted because you had unraveled the anchor rope when I know you were with me at a feast that night. I offered him another measure of rope. Then more came forward with a list of complaints.

"I ___tried__._ I tried to defend you. I tried to think of how it might have been to the greater good or anything to get them to stop. But they kept coming forward with complaints and called for you to be brought before the courts—"

Loki gaped. "Sif came and found us."

Sigyn nodded, though she could not have seen she was nodding to the empty room and that Sif stood warily behind her. "My thanks, Lady." She shivered again. "I called for the guards to come closer because one was drunk and complaining that you called his wife into infidelity." Loki opened his mouth to protest, but Sigyn held up her hand. "I don't care if you did or didn't as it happened some six years ago before we were even pledged." She sighed sadly. "I will not move against you. I will honor my vows.

"But I cannot say that I am able to stand beside you. Even if half of what was accused was true—I cannot..."

Thor blanched and pressed his hand on her shoulder. More than any, he knew what it took to make the excuses and to try to hide what Loki might have done. "My sister—we are all...overwrought and weary." Sigyn shot him a look, her scars flaming red across her pale face. Had she eyes, Thor imagined she would have looked lost. Hesitantly, Thor smiled at her. "I will lead you to your room and we will all allow you privacy and rest."

"Indeed," Odin agreed softly. "It will do us all good to consider what has happened today." He gestured towards his sons. "You are both dismissed as well—to think of what has been said and done. I have not seen such brave fidelity before and need, myself, to consider how best to reward it."

Loki took the Allfather's place beside Sigyn. "Come... I will lead you."

Yet, this time, Sigyn did not take his elbow or smile at his voice. Instead, she moved closer to the Allfather. "My king, I should like to thank the Lady Sif first. Had she not fetched you, I should have gone mad." She showed them her palms and the angry little moon marks on them. "I had nothing else and pressed my nails into my palms to prevent my magic from harming them."

Odin cast a meaningful look at Loki and then back at Sigyn. It did not escape his notice that she carefully did not choose Thor to lead her to her room, but not Loki either. With a heavy sigh, he led her to the other woman.

Sigyn's voice was raspy and hoarse. "My lady, I have you to thank for bringing me help when I was in dire need. I have neither sword nor shield to offer you, but only my friendship and heartfelt thanks. I will remember your aid this day and will repay it if I can."

Sif nodded solemnly. "I am honored, Your Highness." Thor beamed at her, his eyes twinkling in merry blue lights. She smiled shyly back flushing as he mouthed ___thank you _to her as well.

Sigyn noticed none of this and walked silently with the Allfather to the chambers she shared with Loki. Slowly, wearily, she plodded along, paying no mind to any they passed.

Odin stopped at the doorway. "My dear." He debated the words carefully. "I know that today has been...shocking to you. I can only guess at what you were told and the accusations you heard." He sighed. "Loki is difficult to understand. I am glad that he has you who is willing to look below the surface of tricks and mischief to see the good within."

Sigyn shuddered and almost moaned. "I cannot find it this day, Allfather. ___I cannot._" She shuddered again and feebly pressed a hand to her lower back. "And I ache all over now as though every word was a fist."

Odin nodded. "I will occupy Loki for a few hours to allow you privacy and send your maids to you that you may bathe and rest and-"

Whatever else the Allfather was going to say was lost as Sigyn crumpled beside him, holding her stomach. She groaned softly and panted as her stomach heaved. In a gasp, she said, "Please—take me inside."

Though old, Odin was strong and he hefted her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. Memnet came out from the bathing chamber—Loki had appeared briefly enough to grab a book and order a bath be drawn—and looked at her charge. Odin looked at her—his single eye glaring. "She needs-"

"Aye, I'll send for the midwife. My cousin knows Sigyn and will treat her well." Memnet interrupted as she came to the bedside. "My dear—I'm here. We'll get you into a comfortable nightgown and let you rest."

"The babe! He is early." Sigyn gasped painfully. The agony in the small of her back came again.

Memnet paled and forced out a chuckle. "Babies arrive when they wish. Besides-" she said reasonably as she pulled off a leather shoe. "-this one may simply wish for rest."

Odin paled and propped Sigyn up against the back of his shoulder. He kept his eye on the wall as she was undressed and then clothed in a loose, flowing gown. He had liked the soft fabric and the bright blue flowers on the pale pink fabric when Frigga had shown it to him. Carefully avoiding looking at Sigyn's exposed flesh, he provided her a handy prop and a strong grip so that she could get up and settle in the bed against some pillows. From somewhere a guard was summoned and dispatched to find Memnet's cousin. Another group of maids appeared and were sent to fetch water, blankets, swaddling and bandages, and other such stuff.

Quite without knowing how, Odin found himself outside the bedroom. First, the midwife had come in and begun gently coaxing Sigyn to speak of her symptoms and he had yielded his place on the side of the bed. An assistant had showed up with a basket of medicine and devices and he had stepped out of her way so that they could examine Sigyn. The midwife had instructed the assistant to light candles with relaxing aromas and to fetch a bowl with cool water and a cloth to wipe Sigyn's brow and he had stepped away again. Then, he had ended up backed up right by the door as another maid came in with a pile of towels. Stepping out of her way, he was suddenly outside. One of the maids smiled at him and gently closed the door.

So he found himself staring at the closed door when Thor came down the hallway. "Father," Thor said in confusion. "What are you doing out here? Is aught amiss?" He looked at the doorway and the faint shadows darting back and forth. "Sigyn?"

Odin laughed shortly. "That's the second time it has happened to me that a midwife has thrown me out of a bedroom."

Thor looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Should I fetch Loki?"

Odin shook his head. "If you would fetch us both chairs, I think we will wait here for a bit to see if there is any news." He clapped his eldest son on the shoulders. "I remember when you were born and how I dithered and generally was more anxious than Frigga..."

Thor brought out two chairs from his chambers and they sat in the hallway, waiting for news. Occasionally a maid would emerge only to duck back into the room or rush down a hallway without stopping. There were no scream or shouts, only bustling and rustling.

Finally, the midwife came out and approached them. "She has had a hard day of it. We have stalled the birth. It is too soon for him to be born and no mistake."

Thor looked at Odin and swallowed heavily before looking at the midwife. "Is she well? Can we see her?"

"She'll not receive visitors, young prince," the midwife said sternly, crossing her arms over her ample chest. "She is to rest and to recover. She said that today was hard and she sat a lot, so I will stay the night to see that the babe is well set and not likely to miscarry." She frowned. "If His Highness is around, I would tell him to go to some tavern and drink—heavily—until I send for him. I'll see that the babe stays put, but I'll not have someone else loitering around and making her fret."

Thor choked back a laugh. "I will fetch Loki and take him drinking."

Odin shook his head—merriment lighting his one eye. "Have a feast tonight—there are many here who are guests and who would like to feast to your coronation. It will occupy you both."

"That would be for the best," the midwife agreed smugly. "You can both drink and still be on hand should she take a turn for the worst and the babe come anyway."

Odin smiled. "I will then throw the feast myself—in honor of Sigyn." He gestured at Thor. "Go and gather our friends and set the kitchens to work and we will all feast tonight."

"We will send a platter up for the princess," Thor offered.

The midwife snorted. "Not with the rich foods you favor, Your Highness. She needs simple foods—cut fruits, cheeses, fresh bread and water. Nor wine or beer unless I send for it. A flagon of crisp, cool water with lemon slices in it would do well to quench her thirst along with a pot of hot water for tisanes." She appeared to think for a moment and then said. "No use raising a fuss—it would only upset the Princess, I think. So send up her dinner and I will see that she is tended tonight. In the morning, I will leave my assistant while I tend to a matter at home and then will return." She shot them both a rather quelling glare. "And no use worrying about whether or not she'll be up and about to attend any festivities. She won't, as I mean to keep her off her feet for some time. In fact, as long as I can." She turned briskly. "If you have any questions, you may write them down and slip them under the door and I will answer them as I can." She opened and shut the door firmly behind her.

Thor gaped and Odin only nodded with a smile. Odin clapped Thor on the shoulder again and picked up his chair to carry it back to Thor's apartments. "Son, I'd say we've been given our marching orders."

"But, Father, she's a..."

"Midwife."

"And we've been ___ordered _to—"

"Drink. And feast. And send a platter with simple foods along with both cool water and hot water."

"But—"

"Don't argue with her."

Thor laughed hugely. "I see. Well, I apparently have a feast to host." He laughed again and they took the chairs into his chambers. "I will see to Loki as best I can if you will see the feast set." He grimaced as he considered the events of the afternoon. "Father, did we just get ordered out of..._my brother's rooms?!"_

Odin chuckled at Thor's bemused expression. "And just wait until it is ___your _turn with your lady. If you thought we were reprimanded just now, wait until she is attending your wife. My ears stung like they had been boxed several times as I was lectured on how to treat Frigga in her childbearing."

Thor laughed again. "I see that I am to be outnumbered..." He smiled. "I suppose that we should tell Mother before she comes here and crosses that dragon's path."

Odin nodded. "I will tell her and she will be discreet."

Thor grimaced. "I will find Loki and tell him of the feasting and make Sigyn's excuses."

Odin stared for a moment at nothing in particular. "I suppose it will be for the best if he is told. I'd rather he not make Sigyn more upset, but he will-"

"Go raving mad if he finds out her distress and none of us told him," Thor finished grimly.

"Yes," Odin agreed sadly.

Thor left his sire and began searching through the palace. His friends were in one of the salons, playing chess and cards. Sif looked at him strangely as he asked if they knew where Loki was, and only shook her head before turning again to her board. Hogun watched silently, frowning and brooding. Volstagg's ears perked when Thor explained that there was to be a feast tonight and he smiled broadly, but then Fandral took one grim look at him and he seemed to falter.

"Is Sigyn all right?" Fandral asked suddenly.

Thor nodded. "She is resting in the care of the midwife. She has extended her excuses."

Sif looked at the carved ebony queen sitting on the chessboard. "I have told our friends of what happened during the audiences." She thumped the black king over and watched it bounce off the board. "We will not say more than you. Only that she is resting."

Thor smiled softly at Sif. "You have warmed to her, then?"

Sif frowned. "I have and I say she is too good for Loki." Sif glared at the black king as she kicked it with her foot. The piece spun on the slick floor and then cracked against a table leg with the head going one way and the rest going the other. "I know that he is your brother, but he does not deserve to have her honor him so. She is kind and generous and thoughtful—everything he is only able to pretend to be."

Fandral smiled sadly. "My lady Sif—it has been a hard day. I think that you could undoubtedly use a generous cup of wine and a turn on the dancing tiles to raise your spirits."

"And what of her?" Sif snapped angrily. "She lies abed because-" Her eyes screwed shut and she felt hoarse for a moment. "Because I did not stop the complaints when they first started." She shrugged and blinked rapidly shining eyes. "I had thought that there was no harm is letting one or two vent their spleen and show her the one she married. I had no idea that it would get so out of hand."

Thor came to her and wrapped his arms around her. "'Twas not your fault." He kissed the top of her head. "This was a storm set to break and nothing could have stopped it from coming sooner or later."

Fandral smiled sadly. "Will the lady need company? Perhaps a lively story or song to pass the time?"

Thor smiled at his friends. "Odin and I have been ordered—by the midwife, no less—to not darken the door until we are sent for." He forced a laugh. "A crown prince and king bow to the whims of a midwife." A smile half-cocked his lips. "We have been ordered to feast and drink and keep from brooding while we wait."

"Ah..so that is the reason for the hasty feast," Volstagg said with a smile. "I was told the same when my own came." He shrugged his massive shoulders eloquently. "But it is a good reason to feast..."

Hogun grunted in amusement. "You do not need a reason to feast."

Fandral smiled. "We will do as ordered then. We will feast and make merry and keep our friends from brooding." He leaned back in his chair with his arms wide. "Bring on the adoring maidens."

Sif let out a deep, gurgling laugh. "___You_do not need a reason to bring out the adoring maidens."

Thor chuckled. "I have good friends to feast with. As soon as I have found Loki, we can begin."

Thor found Loki at last in their weapons training room. Every target was smashed—though only a few sizzled with magic. Every rack and shelf had been upset as though a storm had raged inside—the weapons and supplies and books scattered to the floor. One practice hammer was split with magic.

Loki himself was sitting against a wall, a broken quarterstaff in his hands. He had either not had on his armor and only the illusion when in the audience chamber or had doffed it some time ago as his green shirt was soaked with sweat. His eyes were ruddy and swollen and his hands were blistered and raw. His boots were scratched at the ankles where the spinning targets had struck low. There was a small rip along one narrow leg and several other bruises.

Thor swallowed and came over gingerly. He could not name what had beset Loki—Loki who never seemed to grieve or sorrow. He silently appraised the damage and looked again at his brother. With a sigh, he offered his hand.

Loki swatted it away and stared at one of the carved target's "heads" as it lay shattered on the floor propping a chin on a bent knee. As Thor only stood there, looking at the damage, he sighed and leaned back again and rolled his eyes up at his older brother. "I suppose that you are here to take me to task?"

"No," Thor rumbled. "I am here to take you to a feast."

Loki's eyes rolled again. "In honor of your coronation? I think that I'd rather not."

"Father will insist—" Thor began.

"Tell him I'm ill. Tell him that I've turned into a bird and migrated. Tell him that I've business elsewhere. Tell him I've turned into a salmon or sea bass and swum away." Loki shrugged. "Tell him anything you like."

"Father will insist," Thor repeated. "Because the feast is to honor Sigyn." Loki glared up at him, as though daring him to say that he made a jest. "To honor her example of fidelity and loyalty."

"She'll be fine without me," Loki grumbled, tossing the staff onto the pile of rubbish.

Thor sighed heavily. Of all the duties that would fall to him, this had to be the one he shouldered most reluctantly. "Sigyn...cannot attend—"

That roused Loki's interest. Loki sprang to his feet and blasted Thor with a spray of magical flames. Thor fell back, wishing he had his cloak still. Loki's hands flamed with his fury and his face became a mask of rage. "___Why_can Sigyn not attend?"

Thor coughed a bit at the smoky smell. "She is resting—" Loki raised his hands and the flames joined into a ball of acidic green fire. "Brother—she is truly resting under the care of the midwife."

The fire puffed out like an unguarded candle flame in a wind. Loki's red-rimmed eyes went wide. "What?! When? How?" he gaped. His face went white and his eyes were wide as though he had a fright. He grabbed Thor's armor and pulled him close. "What happened?"

Thor chuckled a little. "She is resting in the care of the midwife. She felt ill after the audiences and Father took her to your chambers. The midwife ordered us to take you drinking so that none of us—including you—would brood and make her fretful." He smiled in bemusement, although Loki did not return the smile. "Father proposed the feast in her honor and sent me to fetch you." He clapped Loki on the back, causing the slighter man to jerk. "You have found a rare and wonderful woman, I think."

Loki's lips pressed out a thin smile. "I guess that I am attending a feast then." He pressed his hands together. "However, I will not leave Sigyn unguarded in her...confinement. There must be two guards at her door and under the balcony at all times, as well as at each end of the hallway."

Thor's brow knitted in concern. "Brother—we are well defended in the palace. Our allies surround us. Do you suspect an attack?" He smiled again. "It would be madness for anyone to attack when we and all our allies have gathered together."

Loki only glared. "I will post the guards myself."

Thor shook his head. No wonder the midwife advised heavy drinking if this is how new fathers were prone to reacting. "No, brother. You will get cleaned up. Fandral will loan you clothes if you need them and I will loan you armor if you wish. You will attend the feast to accept Sigyn's honors and I will post guards as you have said."

Loki looked at Thor speculatively, as though judging the truth of his words. "We will go together. It will harm none if I get fresh clothing."

Thor's lips twitched in merriment. "I would not advise it. The midwife would only be enraged and send you out as she did Father and me."

Loki looked at him as though he were mad. "_What did you say?_"

Thor's voice dripped with amusement. "We were ___ordered _out. We were told that she would send for us if the babe came or if Sigyn was—in her opinion, my brother—judged fit for company."

Loki turned even more pale—if that were possible. "The child is coming? He is too soon!"

"As we all thought," Thor nodded. "But they have stopped the birth for now and she is resting." Loki almost seemed to twitch nervously and Thor could not help but tease him. "Brother—I love you dearly, but I am glad that I will not take a wife and have that particular dragon breathing fire at me."

Loki staggered out of the room, deaf and dumb to Thor's comments. They assigned a rotation of 8 guards to watch that no one intruded on Sigyn. Loki felt his mouth go dry and a lump in his throat as he watched the guards assume their positions. Thor would allow them shifts of four hours in this area and then allow them to be relieved and go into the main halls so that they could all see a portion of the festivities. As Thor spoke with one of the guards, he cast quickly and vanished before teleporting inside his apartment bedroom.

Inside the bedroom, Sigyn rested on the immense bed in one of the new night gowns that Frigga had bought her recently. The midwife sat by the hearth, knitting or sewing or some such. Her assistant wound a skein of thread into a ball and together they kept watch on a host of devices that monitored Sigyn and the baby. Candles with soothing aromas—chamomile, lavender, cardamom, and sandalwood—clustered on the mantle and on the bedside table. He pinched his nose to avoid sneezing. A kettle rested near the fireplace, along with a cup of what appeared to be tea or steeped herbs. A platter could be seen on the desk with simply prepared foods. A half-empty carafe of cool water stood on the bedside table with a tall, sweaty glass and a bowl of lemons and oranges beside it.

Sigyn muttered softly and reached out to the empty space beside her. Loki almost went to her, but was pushed aside by the midwife as she bustled and drew up a quilt over his wife. "There, there, dear," she said softly and brushed the tendrils back from Sigyn's face. "Do not fret."

Sigyn's breath shuddered out and the monitors shuddered with her. "I dreamed that Loki was here," she whimpered. "That he wanted to hold my hand and speak to me."

"Ah," the midwife nodded. "A good dream, to be dreaming of the child's father." She patted Sigyn's hand gently. "Have you decided on a name?"

"We were torn between Narvi and Vali," Sigyn said softly.

"Both are good, strong names," the midwife nodded. "But what if the child is a girl?"

Sigyn giggled softly. "I do not think my lord would countenance such rebellion." She then turned and said softly. "I hope that he..." Her voice cracked and she let out a little cry.

The midwife tutted. "I've made you cry, child." She took Sigyn's hand. "But we will speak of pleasant things so that your child—boy _or _girl—will have pleasant voices and tones to carry through the next days."

Sigyn tugged up the blanket. "I am so cold—am I supposed to be so cold?"

The midwife smiled. "I have yet to know of a standard way a mother is supposed to be." She waved to the assistant who went to fetch another quilt. "It would make my job easier if there was only one way. My assistant has gone to get another quilt and we will sing together."

"Sing?" Sigyn asked.

"Indeed—it will relax you and soothe the infant." The midwife shrugged. "It is hardly his fault that he so eager to see you that he is early." Sigyn jumped a bit and shifted restlessly in the bed. "And I see from that kick he agrees."

There was a clanking from the doorway and the midwife rolled her eyes. "I'll see what that's about. Won't be a moment, my dear and we'll pick out songs to sing."

The midwife burst open the door and all but snarled at the guards. "Now what's this clanking and banging around? I have ordered quiet for my lady to rest and you two cads-"

"Prince Thor's orders, ma'am. We are to spend 4 hours at our posts and then rotate so that there are always fresh eyes guarding the princess."

"Well leave off the clanking and banging around. A body can't rest with such a racket. Now, be quiet or I'll summon the entire court to take you off where you can clank and leave us in peace. And as they are at a feast to honor the lady, I'll just ___dare _you to make me summon them!"

Loki smirked at the midwife as she continued to berate the hapless guard. He conjured a flower and laid it on the bed. Did Sigyn move but a little, she would feel the stem. Would she pull it close or fling it from her, though? He almost hoped she would fling it to the ground. It would be a release from the fire in his throat and chest to have her do that small thing against him. He deserved it. He deserved all of it. Every screaming chant, every curse, every cry and shout and accusation—he deserved it all.

The midwife came back, muttering dire threats under her breath. With a sigh, she smiled again at Sigyn and tucked her in with the new quilt the assistant brought.

"When will Loki be back?" Sigyn asked after a moment.

The midwife blushed. "I believe that he is attending the feast as we speak. I have told them to go off and get drunk and not stand around fretting and fuming. There's naught here that they could do at any rate."

"Will he come back to me tonight?"

Loki's teeth gritted. He wasn't sure what the answer would be—wasn't sure what it ___should _be. He willed her to feel the flower—to take it close or to dash it away.

The midwife smiled. "Lass, there's few things that warm my heart more than a wife in love with her husband. If you are well and the baby is settled, then I will send for him in the morning."

"But if not?" Sigyn's face fell.

The midwife perched on the bed. "Then as soon as you are settled in your labor, I will send for him." She snorted. "No use having him pace around and snarl at us all when its just us resting and waiting, now is there?"

"He's not an animal," Sigyn protested weakly.

The midwife's assistant snorted and the midwife raised her hand silently to the wench, but even she seemed to choke on the words. "My lady—of course he isn't. However, watching someone else rest would surely try anyone's patience?"

Sigyn nodded uncertainly, letting out a soft gasp as the child kicked. "We will rest, I think. For a while..."

"Would you like another sip of tea or water?" the midwife offered softly. "Valerian and chamomile and mint to aid you?"

Sigyn smiled and yawned widely and settled again for sleep. "I will rest well enough, I think."

The midwife let out a gruff smile. "Dream of your love, then. Dream of holding your precious babe and the smile on your face when he is in your arms."

Loki teleported out of the room again and invisibly into the halls. The guards stood at the door and another pair at each end of the hallway. Yet another pair slid past in tandem on apparently a patrol.

The guard on the left of the door sighed. "It will be a long night."

The second guard nodded. "My first took nearly two days to be born and I do not believe that the princess has had her labor pains yet." He blew out a deep sigh. "I hope that she is as strong as they say."

The first nodded in return. "My Kristin was confined for a month after the last child because of the bleeding."

"At least this midwife is sure and confident. It seemed to me that when my wife bore her second the midwife dithered about more than I did." His shoulders shook lightly. "I had to take the woman in hand and almost ended up tending my wife myself."

The first one paused for a moment. "Did you hear about the audiences this morning?"

The second turned to him quickly. "Hush about that! If you're smart, you heard nothing either." He glanced around, totally missing Loki as he stood before him, before whispering softly, "I heard that she collapsed after the audiences."

"Me, too. I heard that it was the Allfather that brought her to her chamber and summoned the midwife."

The second guard made a tsk sound with his tongue. "I would wager that Loki will pay dearly for that one."

"Me too. I would wager that the Allfather will-"

Loki allowed himself to appear suddenly, wrapped in the illusion of full regalia. "Will do what?" he asked softly with a sinister smile.

"Nothing, Your Highness," they both barked, suddenly standing straighter.

Thor came around the corner. "Loki! I see you are ready for the feast." He clapped his brother on the shoulder and turned him around. "Let us go. I'm told that the sweet tonight is honey cakes dipped in dark chocolate—your favorite."

Loki stiffly followed Thor, casually dropping spells behind him. If he had even thought that today would be the day that Sigyn delivered his child, he would not have indulged in his tantrum in the training room and wasted his magic. As it was, he allowed himself to drop divining spells so that he could simply gaze into a mirror or a filled cup and see what was happening in the hallways. The drain on his reserves of magical power were staggering, but he would not trust anyone else.

Odin had rounded up quite a gathering by the time the princes made it into the room for their grand entrance. Everyone was balancing a plate and goblet in their hands and relishing the grand feast—suckling pigs with baked apples, mead soaked hens, a side of auroch roasted with pepper sauce, and too many other dishes to name. Thor was quickly swept up into a crowd of well-wishers and friends and Loki stood to the side, debating what really looked appealing enough to cross the room and fetch it. Truthfully, none of it did. None of it looked tasty and appealing enough to dare the stares and snickers he was sure would follow him.

A maid passed with a sweating flagon, filling cups. With an air of nonchalance that belied her hasty approach, she filled his cup and hurried away. Loki's eyes followed the flagon, watching it sweat little drops of water that dropped to the floor only to be crushed under someone's boot.

Frowning, Loki took his normal place at the high table, greeting his parents with little more than a nod. He missed or ignored the knowing look that Odin gave Frigga and simply sat, staring at his cup and sipping from it whenever anyone seemed about to approach him. He didn't even notice the maid as she circled round to fill his cup again with the rich, red wine that Odin and Thor favored serving at their feasts. Another maid timidly brought a plate, but he pushed it away and kept staring into his cup and drinking.

Odin signaled for a wine to be brought again and spoke softly to Loki. "My son—is all well?"

Loki shrugged and took a hearty gulp of the wine. The taste was not so bitter now that he was sure now that he did ___not _taste salty tears in the brew.

Frigga leaned over to him. "Her midwife is the best that I know of. She will be well cared for." She smiled gently. "Why not enjoy some of the feast?"

Loki looked up at his parents coldly. "While I am feted and fed like a pig to be roasted." He took another drink. "I'm told that I am to get drunk, so I am about the task."

Odin grimaced and Frigga glanced at him with a slight nod. The midwife had marked Loki well. He would have brooded and started every time the poor chick gasped. With a hopeful smile, Odin nodded the maid forward again to refill the cups.

The entire evening was raucous and noisy and filled with boasting and laughter. Thor was in his element, extolling his own valor and prowess as others did the same. Odin walked among the chancellors, ambassadors and such to greet friends and to speak with them. Frigga alternated between sitting patiently at the high table and wandering around to speak with the ladies of the court.

Loki drank—deeply and as often as he could manage to flag a servant to refill his cup. It didn't matter if it was the smooth red wine his father favored or the sweet cherry cordial his mother liked or the honey colored mead Thor liked. It all tasted like bitter, dirty water. There was no pleasant fizzle in his blood or warm fuzzing of his thoughts, not the slightest breath of pleasant, liquid forgetfulness.

In between swallows, he cursed—vehemently and without stinting himself, his past, the people of Asgard, Odin, Thor, Sif, Frigga or whatever maggot twisted the thoughts of the Norns as they wove his fate. If he hadn't left Sigyn to the audiences, none of this would have happened. If Sif had been doing her job—namely, guarding Sigyn—then it would not have happened. If Odin hadn't seized the chance to huddle together with both of his sons before yielding the throne, then none of this would have happened.

He slammed down the cup again and a serving boy breathlessly whizzed past, filled it and kept going. He looked into the still wine and saw Sigyn, resting comfortably as the midwife and her assistant frowned at their machines and devices. He grew more uncomfortable in that the machines looked as foreign to his eyes and his spell components and devices probably looked to their eyes.

That was followed by an uncomfortable thought—a truly foreign thought to him—that the items, herbs and spell craft he was so deft with would be foreign and terrifying to another. Of course, that was what had attracted him to spell craft in the first place—the pleasant sting of Thor not knowing which end of a wand was which. Had Sigyn eyes to see, would she regard his spell craft with mistrust and ill-will?

It was a small mercy that sleeping Sigyn held tightly to the stem he had placed on her bed. It was a small, random and probably pointless gesture—a flower that could have come from anywhere. She reached again to his place in the bed and again withdrew as she met cool sheets. She appeared to utter some small cry in her sleep—silent in his vision—and the midwife came to her and held her hand.

Loki cast an eye upward to the feast. Odin was boasting and preening as people admired Thor. Frigga was listening to some mavens gossiping about something or other. Thor was being admired and fawned over while Sif stood by and smiled. The Warriors Three drank and flirted and feasted as they each wished.

Loki drained the cup in three swallows and stood. There was a sudden rush to his head and his eyes clouded for a moment. He stared at the plate of cold viands and shuddered as he shook his head to clear it.

"Loki!" Odin said in his usual, over loud tones. "Come—we feast to honor Sigyn. Come and share a cup with us." He came over and led Loki to the group and pressed a cup in his hand.

One of the group—an rather aged looking man with massively ruddy cheeks and nose—tittered. "We have heard about Sigyn-"

"Have you?" he asked almost blandly.

"Indeed—we have been hearing how devoted she is," the man chuckled.

Frigga butted in. "I have spoken to them about how loyal Sigyn has been to you, Loki," she explained unnecessarily. He only raised an eyebrow. "We have all been favorably impressed..."

"Where is this paragon now?" another man chirped with a hiccup and a lewd look.

"She rests and recovers so that her babe will be strong," Frigga replied sharply.

"A baby?" the first smiled. "There's something to drink to!" He raised his glass. "A toast to the Princess Sigyn and the child!"

Loki toasted reluctantly. All of a sudden, the entire hall seemed filled with stinking, hypocritical geezers and crones. Not a one of them could have been bothered to greet him as he sat there, and now suddenly as one sodden wit heard it from another, toasts were being raised to her health and the child's health all across the hall.

Of course, the round of toasts quickly degenerated into a drinking game.

As Thor guzzled from his huge drinking horn and Volstagg beat the table in time with his swallows, others began cheering. Despairing and in a foul temper, Loki took a bottle—it really didn't matter which one—from a serving table and disappeared down a back hallway. His head swam unpleasantly and his tongue felt...furry. Still there was no rest in his mind—he still felt the anxious, churning in his stomach and the burning fury of his anger as he recounted the day. He had had enough of the feasting, and was ready to seek a place to rest.

The midwife glowered at him from the tiny crack that she opened the door when he knocked. With a snort and a sniff to have done any huffy lady at court proud, she ordered him, "Find another place to rest tonight, Your Highness. Your lady is resting here."

Loki rolled his bloodshot eyes. "I have spent this evening drinking, per your orders, and now I seek only to rest."

"Loki?" Sigyn called through gritted teeth, her voice faint from the bedroom across the sitting area. "Is that you?"

The assistant wailed softly and ran from the front sitting room to the bedroom. "My lady—do not strain!"

The midwife cursed softly and followed the assistant in without thought to the frowning prince at the door. Loki's apartment was similar to the one Sigyn had been given—a sitting room in the front with a bedchamber beyond and an immense closet and then a bathing area beyond that. Unlike Sigyn's smaller space, he had an extra bedroom and closet branching off so that his lady and he could each have a space. He had allowed her to get to know the space, but they had slept in each others arms and, truthfully, the other bedroom was ___furnished _but not ___finished,_as his mother liked to say.

The sitting area had been dusted, but not much else, and Loki sat down his bottle on the coffee table and draped himself in a chair by the fireplace. For a time, it seemed like a good idea to simply sit and wait, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him.

The invisibility spell was difficult. The heady wine and mead and cordial unexpectedly sang in his blood and his mind was sleepy and slow. Usually, he could dash out the words quickly and vanish as fast as a blink. Now, it took him three tries and he still wobbled on the last bit. But, he was hidden from view as he followed inside.

Sigyn's face was flushed and she sweated as she bit her bottom lip. The midwife and assistant buzzed around her. "Where is..." she gasped and then groaned. "Loki?"

The midwife looked set to offer some pithy remark and then looked at the readings on the tablet she had with her. The Asgardian device showed readings that were highly unusual and she frowned. Truthfully, she had never seen such readings before. She licked her sweaty lip and swallowed heavily. Tugging on her assistant, she whispered, "Find the Prince-"

"Prince Loki?" the assistant asked.

The midwife stroked Sigyn's stomach and nodded. "While you're about it, tell the King as Queen as well." She tried unsuccessfully to smile at Sigyn as the assistant rushed off. "My dear—you are straining too hard. The child is large and will not come easily—save your strength."

Sigyn moaned. "Please...is the child well?"

The midwife gazed at the lines and readings on her chart. "He seems to be..." She frowned. "But he..."

Sigyn groaned again. "He is pushing too hard!" Her stomach flexed strangely.

Loki felt the adrenaline burn through the alcoholic haze. "My dear," he said softly, pushing past the midwife as he became visible. He knelt on the bed. Sigyn reached for him and he took her in his arms.

The midwife frowned as he arranged her on the pillows and soothed her—talking nonsense of flowers and gardens and dragons and such. And purple feathers—whatever _that _was. But Sigyn gradually relaxed and the crisis seemed to be passing—the child settling in for another bout of rest.

She tutted and glowered at her instruments and went to her baggage to prepare a drink for Sigyn. Loki kept on smiling at her, joking and laughing about everything and nothing and for the time being, it seemed the princess was able to rest. But the child was already enormous and much too early. Even allowing for an extra month before Sigyn estimated her conception, it was still early and she had no idea how Sigyn would manage.

She came over and smiled at Sigyn. "Now my dear—drink some of your water. You will need to keep sipping and I will advise resting for a bit. I'll summon the maids in an hour or so and they will be able to change your bed and help you put on something fresh to wear, if you like."

Loki frowned and cuddled Sigyn close as she drifted to sleep. "Is _that _the best that you can manage to do?" he hissed over his love's sleeping head.

Instead of quailing and whimpering before him, the midwife crossed her arms over her chest again and frowned mightily at him in return. "Your Highness—I have been birthing babes since my youth. I have attended the healer's school for twelve years before that—when my mam was attending your mother as your brother was born." She glowered again. "The child is large and the mother is slender. It is only natural that the birth will be long and slow as they both adjust and she labors."

Loki gestured impatiently. "And what is your point?"

"My point is that she will likely have a long labor. The child is coming too soon because he is so large. She simply is running out of room to hold him within." Her frown deepened. "I attempt to forestall the birth so that there is the best chance of survival."

Loki swallowed deeply, feeling his eyes sting with tears. "Will I lose them both?"

"There is no telling," the midwife said gruffly. "And I do not say these words lightly to a young father. I have lost children before and mothers who were weak or ill." She sighed and began fiddling with her things. "It is a part of birthing, I suppose." She paused, gathering her breath and then looked at him solemnly. "Your princess is strong in her heart. She thinks of you and speaks of you often. She wants her child and that is the best gift. I've attended mothers who did not and their child suffered greatly in their wombs because of it. I've attended mothers who wanted their children more than anything and their spirit was so strong that they made it through when all seemed lost.

"Her Highness truly wants her child. She wants this child more than anything else. The child, though large, is nestled still and nourished in her womb. When all of my skills are spent, the mother's spirit often turns the tide and brings new life into the world."

Loki only nodded and brushed Sigyn's hair from her face. His tears sparkled in her brown tresses like diamonds. He kissed her brow.

"That will be the door," the midwife said softly. "I will close the bedroom door so that they do not disturb you and will greet them myself."

Frigga paced in the sitting area as Odin waited patiently. The assistant had let them in—not nearly so dour and formidable as the midwife herself, and then had vanished to find Prince Thor. Odin frowned as Frigga kept pacing, but said nothing.

The midwife came out slowly, her eyes downcast and her face troubled. "Your Majesties," she greeted carefully.

"We received your summons," Frigga said. "Is the child born? Is Sigyn well?"

The midwife looked at Frigga in her glistening raiment. "Princess Sigyn is well for now and is resting with Prince Loki."

Frigga took a deep breath of relief but Odin's eye narrowed on the midwife. "The child is well?" he asked in a low voice.

The midwife shrugged. "The child is early. I can only forestall the birth a little to give him time to grow." She fidgeted restlessly. "But I would hazard that he will be born within the next few days."

Thor's voice boomed from the hall doorway. "Then we will have to postpone the ceremony," he smiled.

The midwife smiled at Odin's eldest son. "Your Highness," she greeted. "I cannot say how long this may go on. It may be days or weeks before the child is born. Or hours."

"The ceremony will go as planned," Odin decreed stiffly without looking at Thor behind him. "But we must support Sigyn as well."

"Loki said as much," Thor pointed out. "He has ordered guards under her balcony, at the doorway and at each end of the hallway." He shrugged in his armor. "I have ordered others to patrol this area."

"The Princess Sigyn rests," the midwife offered. "But as the child seems set to wait a spell, then I cannot find any reason that I cannot go and see if His Highness would like company for this long wait."

"May it be a long wait," Odin nodded. He cast a strange look at Frigga, who grimaced. "Very well. Let us see if Loki desires company."

Loki held on to Sigyn, ignoring the voices in the other room. The midwife had begun explaining again to his family that Sigyn's child was so large. Mother was pacing—her light shoes tapping on the floor. Odin was probably looming somewhere and apparently Thor had come around to see the commotion. He patted Sigyn's belly again, crooning soft songs to them all. She slept in his arms, soothed like a child. With reluctance, he eased out of her arms and slipped into the sitting room.

"Loki!" Odin greeted. "We have come at the summons of the midwife."

"Sigyn is well," he nodded. "Her child is so large he seems a giant within her." He cocked a smile he did not feel. "And it seems that he is impatient to be in this world."

Frigga wrung her hands as she considered what would be best to do. "Is there anything at all we can do?"

"Have you decided on a name, Brother?" Thor asked with a smile and only a slight slur. "It does not seem fit to call my nephew by other than his name." He paused and then added as an afterthought, "Or her name, be she a girl."

"Narvi," Loki said swiftly. "Narvi is his name."

Frigga nodded. "And what if it is a girl?"

"_He _isn't," Loki bit out. "He's far too big."

Odin forced out a chuckle. "That's the way of it." He considered Gungir, still tight in his hand. "Perhaps we should walk together, Loki. It will aid in clearing your head for it looks to be a long night."

Loki glowered impatiently. "I do not feel ill at all. Perhaps it can wait..."

Odin chuckled knowingly. "I'll let that go for now considering how much you drank at the feast-"

"A full skin, Brother," Thor chuckled as well. Loki blinked at him in confusion. "You drank a full skin of wine without stopping. It's a wonder that you are still standing."

"Sigyn does wonderful things for me," Loki nodded, still unable to find even his usual mask of gaiety and snarky cheer. He cast an eye up and down his brother. "However, you look the worse for the wear..."

"Aye," Thor nodded unsteadily. "I matched you cup for cup, I think, and have not yet recovered."

"Go to bed, dear," Frigga smiled. "You have a full slate tomorrow and must be hale and hearty for the coronation."

Odin nodded at Thor. "I will expect to see you in my study at the normal time." He cocked a smile that somehow seemed to echo Loki's usual countenance. "Unless Narvi pays us a visit first." He turned to Loki. "You may be excused as long as the midwife will allow you stay here, but I will expect you to represent you both at the coronation."

Thor smiled, beaming at the room in general. He enjoyed the thought of a nephew that he could teach to fight and carry on his broad shoulders. Of course, Odin would be in the thick of things, wanting to carry the lad off on adventures and hunts as long as Sleipnir could put one hoof in front of the other seven. The day after tomorrow, his first proclamation would be to name Narvi as his successor to the throne. Granted, as they had both split a skin of the potent honey mead, the idea had been a spur-of-the-moment inspiration, but he had warmed to it. With Narvi as the heir, he would not have to worry about being tied to some lady and her sighs and crochets. Loki would be a protective and attentive father and watch over the throne and Asgard even more carefully with his son. He sketched a bow that almost landed him on his nose. "Until the morrow's light," he said to his father.

Loki sat down heavily in one of the stuffed chairs, suddenly feeling his head start to pound and wobble on his shoulders. With a heavy sigh, he stretched out his legs and rolled his head back around. Had they been back on the island, Sigyn would have rubbed his shoulders and neck and eased the ache, but she was asleep. For a moment, he didn't even recollect where or how to summon a servant to find the masseuse. His head cocked backward against the back of his chair and he closed his eyes wearily—not even aware of his snores.

Frigga and Odin looked at each other as their son's eyes closed and he seemed to drift to sleep. Odin touched Frigga's hand and smiled sadly. With a steady gaze, he looked at the midwife and whispered, "I should like to see Sigyn for myself."

The midwife frowned again and was set to deliver a lecture—who did these people think they were, after all?-and she never saw Gungir rise and fall briefly or note that she was paralyzed and frozen in time.

Frigga chuckled softly. "Was that ___really _necessary?"

Odin waved Gungir again and Loki was similarly frozen as he lay there. "___That_was probably unnecessary given how much he drank," he clarified with a smirk. "But I cannot afford to have Loki awaken in this."

Walking through to the bedchamber, Odin froze the assistant without a moment's compunction and went to Sigyn's side. Loki had bespelled her to sleep, but it was simplicity itself to extend the spell so that she would not rouse as he visited. Whispering softly, he conjured his own lifestone—an ornate thing covered with runes—and made his own judgments.

Frigga tiptoed in behind him. "And?"

"The child is half-Jotun," Odin murmured. "He is coming early because of his size and because his mother is simply too hot-blooded to nourish him further."

"Then do what must be done," Frigga whispered.

Odin felt the beads of sweat on his forehead as he began murmuring and summoning the Odinforce. Ever so delicately, he began the tedious process of changing the child to Aesir. Frigga wiped the sweat from Sigyn's brow and tucked quilts around her chest and arms when she shivered.

Suddenly, Odin reared back with a cry. His hands seemed to smoke briefly and he looked at Frigga with a pained expression. "He _is _his father's son," he chuckled without mirth. Frigga raised an eyebrow. "Little Narvi has magic of his own and has refused the transformation," Odin explained softly.

Frigga cursed quietly. "What do we do now?"

Odin nodded. "He will appear Aesir, but that is all. He will be tall and strong—perhaps stronger than Thor. From Loki he has inherited an affinity of the arcane." Frigga stroked sleeping Sigyn's brow. "This will have to do. He may not survive the birth-"

"Will Sigyn?" Frigga hissed. "What will Loki do if either of them are harmed?"

"He will live with it," Odin frowned. "Just as I live with Fin's death." He thoughtfully considered his daughter-by-marriage. "Would it be a mercy to-?"

"Don't say it," Frigga ordered. "Don't even ___think _it." She took one of his hands. "Let the birth happen. Narvi may die or may live. Sigyn may die or live. It is a risk all women must take to bring new life."

Odin seemed to shake himself awake. "I will not do more. Let the morrow come."

Frigga smiled. "It is late. You will need to see to Thor tomorrow without the benefit of Loki and his nonsense to lighten the mood."

"When the throne is Thor's," Odin smiled. "Then I shall take you to the cabin in the mountains..."

"Promises, promises," she laughed with a saucy wink.

In the next moment, Odin and Frigga were back at their spots in the sitting chamber. With a wave of Gungir, all returned as they were. The assistant stared at her devices. Sigyn slept and Loki blearily lolled in his chair. The midwife frowned at them, lost in her train of thought for a moment. It would seem to all that they simply had let time get away from them.

Without looking at the midwife, Odin said, "I believe that you are right. We will retire and gird our loins for the morning."

The midwife gaped for a moment as the king and queen swept out without another word. Loki snored softly from his chair and she covered him with a quilt as she tried to collect her thoughts. The assistant called her to examine a reading and to note that the graphs seemed to level out unexpectedly. The midwife untangled Sigyn from the blankets that were bunched around her chest and arms and she only shrugged—it happened that way sometimes.

Loki slept unexpectedly peacefully through the night watches and well into the morning. When he awoke, his throat was parched and his head ached slightly, but otherwise he was hale and hearty. Except, this overstuffed chair...___this is where he had passed the night?_He swallowed heavily and swept the quilt aside and strode in to grab some clothes and visit Sigyn.

Sigyn was awake. Blessedly his spell had worn off—otherwise she would still be asleep or worse since he had very, ___very _little recollection of casting the thing. She frowned at the midwife, her cheeks rosy and flushed and her tiny fists balled up. "I feel perfectly well and my son is perfectly well. I told you that we were doing much better and _you said _that I could walk if I was up to it!"

"My lady," the midwife sniffed. "You leveled out late last night—well after the King and Queen had come. I do not believe that it will do you well to be exerting yourself unless you wish your child to come right now."

Loki chuckled softly. "Perhaps we should listen, my dove."

"Loki?" Sigyn gaped for a moment. She recovered and then looked confused again. "You are ___agreeing _with her?"

Loki laughed outright. She could probably count on one hand the number of times he had agreed with _anything_. "Narvi rests within you," he chuckled. "At least let the boy finish his nap."

Sigyn pouted. "I-I-I've got a thousand things to do! I can't be lying around all the day long like a sick dog. There's the cellar work, the new shelter on the eastern side of town, the-" She carefully did not mention the coronation.

"And none of it is as important as you," Loki said softly, dropping a kiss on her forehead. His balance deserted him for a swimming moment, but then righted itself. He grimaced as he forced himself to stand again.

Sigyn sniffed the air and frowned. "Loki—have you...been drinking?"

Loki sniffed and noticed the air of feasting that still lingered around him. He chuckled, in unexpected good humor. "Allow me to bathe, my dove, and I will return with breakfast and a good book or two."

"Aye," the midwife agreed. "That would be a goodness, I think. Something quiet that can be accomplished by laying still."

Loki paused meaningfully. "So _glad _you approve," he bowed. And then just to tease the older woman, he vanished completely. Breakfast was being cleared—had he _truly _slept _that late?_-but he claimed fresh bread, juice, jam and honey, an a bowl of cut fruits. He ordered eggs and more of the potent, herb filled sausage he loved as well as a portion of cheese and a fresh carafe of water to be delivered to Sigyn's room. The cooks undoubtedly would be in a fine snit with this late meal. Under other circumstances, he would have ordered the late breakfast sheerly to watch the cooks stew and fume.

He bumped into Frigga, almost spilling the tray of treats he had gathered. "Mother—how goes it with you?"

She cast a rather knowing eye up and down his frame. "Better, than I would say it goes with you." She smiled at him. "Have you truly only now risen? What of Sigyn?" She sniffed delicately. "And...have you...perhaps considered a bath?" Loki grimaced and she took the tray from him. "I'll take this to her and you can get cleaned up."

Loki sniffed again, frowning. He smelled not _too bad_, and certainly not as bad as Thor had smelled after some of his feasts. "It's not that bad," he snapped, but his eyes twinkled merrily.

Frigga shrugged and whisked the tray away with a laugh. "It will do me good to speak with her about the budget for the shelter."

"Your discussion ends when I come in," he chuckled. "Otherwise you'll only encourage insurrection and the dragon guarding the princess will have a fit."

Frigga stopped at that and turned to look at him curiously, only to find that he had vanished.

Loki spent a goodly amount of time in the common baths. The hot water restored him and the masseuse spent a great deal of time smoothing oil into his skin and loosening his muscles. For a while, he was able to forget the duties of the day. Undoubtedly his mother would remind him, but for now, he was pleasantly anticipating some time doting on his adorable wife.

He was clean, in fresh clothes, hair combed and ready to be presentable as he stood at the hallway leading to his and Thor's apartments. Surprisingly, Sif stood at attention at the door, watching the hallway and listening with a wistful smile at the clucking and laughter inside the door. "Lady Sif," Loki greeted.

Sif looked startled for a moment and stood again at attention. "Prince Loki," she greeted in return. Loki only stared at her, waiting for explanation. "Odin summoned most of the guard to review their places for the ceremonies tomorrow. As I have only one place to be, I have been assigned to guard Sigyn for a time."

Loki smirked at her. "I see," he said softly. "Care to come inside?"

Sif only smiled stiffly and shook her head.

Loki smiled and went through the doorway, dodging as the patrol came clanking through the hallway. The doorway to the bedroom was open and the assistant was laughing as she came out. He caught her gaze and she flushed and gestured inside with a low curtsey.

He went to the bedroom, finding Frigga lounging in a chair, reading from a book of silly rhymes and childhood songs. The midwife chuckled at some of them and Sigyn plucked at the sheets. Loki settled on the bed beside his wife and simply held her hand and listened as Frigga launched into another round of stories from his childhood.

Meanwhile, Thor sat in Odin's study, trying hard to look attentive. He could easily name a thousand places he'd rather have been than listening one more time to the advice and words of wisdom that his father was trying to impart. He was growing more and more uncomfortable with the praises that Odin heaped on him—it felt like he was being fattened for the position of king like a goose is fattened for the carving.

He envied Loki's day today. What he wouldn't have given to have been allowed to sleep in after the feasting! And then to be allowed to sit with Sigyn and keep her company. Not that there had been much choice there—when he had passed early that morning, that termagant of a midwife was ordering the guards to be silent and had the audacity to wave him away as though he were a kitchen waif. From what the swooning assistant said, Loki had been quietly ordered to be on hand to ensure that Sigyn remained abed and quiet.

"Have you been listening, Thor?" Odin asked.

Thor flushed a ruddy hue and shook his head with a smile. "My mind is wandering over all that you have told me, Father." He gestured towards an illustration of the Tree of Life and the Nine Realms in its branches. "How do you manage it? When do you ___sleep_?"

Odin glanced at Gungir, unwilling to look his eldest in the eye. "I suppose that I should speak of it now, so that you are not caught unawares." He nodded to himself. "I don't sleep, save for the Odinsleep. And when you are king, it will be the Thorsleep."

Thor's brow pleated in confusion. "What do you mean, Father?"

Odin smirked. "When you are king—when the forces that I command come through you—then you will not sleep either, save for the time when you are forced to in order to replenish your own natural powers. The Odinforce allows me to stay awake to tend to the affairs of Asgard and the rest of the nine realms." His smile grew. "There would not be time otherwise and I do not have the benefit of a brother to shoulder the weight of the throne with me."

Thor smiled widely. "I see."

Odin nodded. "The Odinforce has allowed me to remain vigilant when others falter and must rest. It allows me to have a singular grasp on the problems and resolutions that I must face. It is not always pleasant—to hold another's life in your hands and know that you must judge it. However, it is Frigga that allows me to hold on to my better qualities of mercy and patience."

"Mother?" Thor chuckled. "She would be pleased to hear you admit that."

"And don't you tell her," Odin warned with a conspiratorial grin. "She wields too much power as it is."

Thor laughed outright. "That only tempts me to rush to her side the quicker."

Odin laughed, too. "You would have to fight quite a few to get there since she visits with Sigyn."

Thor grunted. "Many come to the palace to see Sigyn and to pay their respects."

"That is not a bad thing," Odin said softly. "It shows that the people are willing to accept her. And keep in mind, Thor, that the people allow us to rule. True our family gained the throne with force and by strength and uniting all of the realms, but it the people decided to resist-"

"There would be great bloodshed and tragedy," Thor said softly. "The throne would topple."

"And the realms would split apart into factions and war would follow our people."

"I will take care," Thor nodded.

"Good," Odin said. "And when you are king-"

"What will you do?" asked Thor suddenly. "What will become of Odin Borson?"

Odin smiled wistfully and gestured to a map. "I will stay long enough to ensure that the people are loyal and will follow Thor Odinson and then I will retire." Thor arched his eyebrows in silent curiosity. "Frigga and I will go to the mountain palace in the north. There we will live out the rest of our years in relative peace and harmony and loyal to the throne."

Thor smiled. "Don't tell Mother. I believe that she is counting on frequent visits to the markets to buy things for her grandchildren."

"Speaking of grandchildren," Odin said, rising with a creak in his bones. "I should like to go see Sigyn myself." He waved at the door. "Go and enjoy your last hours of freedom."

Thor stood and bowed deeply. "I am honored, Sire."

Odin smirked. "I hope that you will still say that a year from now when the throne weighs down your shoulders and the crown weights your smile." He watched his eldest leave and considered his life.

He had always been proud of Thor. What wasn't there to be proud of? He was brave, strong and everything a good king should be. But was he a good man? He was headstrong and could be bloody thick-headed, even stubborn at times. While he did not lack for gaiety and good spirits, he sometimes seemed to lack the somber thoughtfulness that had been Odin's own companion many a late night. Was he ready? Was he truly the best fit for the throne? And how would he know that Thor was the best fit? Thor had been molded into a king from birth—was it truly what he would want if he held his destiny in his own hands? And how would he—or anyone—know what Thor's choice might have been unless Thor had the opportunity to wield his destiny for himself?

Yet one's destiny was a heady and weighty thing. He had made choices of his own destiny—changing and shaping his path as he had created the nine realms. When Frigga had birthed Thor—he had paused for celebration that his own works would find continuance and the realms would have a guardian after himself. He did—despite snide comments to the contrary—remember the heady feeling of choosing his own path and making his own way.

Yet—Thor had not had these things. He had been raised as the prince of Asgard—had never known a day's want, a desire unfulfilled or unfulfillable, or an uncertainty in his future. He had not had cause to question the rightness of his path or his actions. Instead, he had followed where Odin had led with a son's loyalty and joyful heart.

So it remained, to Odin's weary eyes, that Thor might truly need to see these things. He would need to know want, uncertainty and indecision. His son would need—to truly understand and be a good king—to experience what it was to not know the path ahead. To "muddle through" as the common folk put it. But how? He could hardly be sent to Vanheim or one of the other realms—he would yet be a prince there and command a prince's loyalty and rights. Odin could hardly see sending him to Hel—he might well never return. So where could Thor be sent where he would ___not _be known as a prince—where he would not be worshiped or obeyed blindly?

There were only questions with no answers as Odin considered the treaties littering his desk.

Loki escorted Frigga out of the bedroom and into the sitting room later that day. She had kept them both company with a seeming endless supply of stories of the mischief that he had been in as a youth. Some were sorrowful—lessons he had paid dearly to learn. Some were cheery as his mischief led to laughter.

"I hope that you don't mind me spending time with Sigyn," she said in passing.

"Not at all," he nodded. "I think it keeps her from fretting." He grimaced. Something felt out of place with the birth, but he could not put his finger on it. Even since they had visited, the readings and appearances were of a normal—albeit large—child waiting to be born. Sigyn had not even spoken of being abnormally cold.

Frigga paused and smiled at her younger son. She softly put her hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "She is a darling," she smiled. "I had at first thought the worst—that she was some tavern slattern, but you have proven wiser than I in judging her. She is good for Asgard and for you."

Loki was about to make some comment when a knock at the door stopped him. With a grimace, he gestured for his mother to wait a moment and went to open the door. Odin loomed in the doorway, with what appeared to be two collections of flowers and a small package of sweets in his arms. With a grumpy sound, he dumped them into Loki's arms and strode in to kiss Frigga.

"While I am truly flattered," Loki smirked in bemusement. "I really don't think you're my type." He sniffed the flowers. "And I'm spoken for."

Odin flushed red and Frigga dared to chuckle, "My son, I haven't a doubt that they are for Sigyn."

Odin nodded. "I met some of the ambassadors from Vanheim this afternoon in preparation for the coronation. They were beside themselves to gift the princess of Asgard with these tokens and one seemed almost heartbroken that she was not available to receive them."

Loki conjured vases to hold the bouquets. One was a collection of dark purple irises and golden yellow narcissus and the other was a rainbow of various roses. The package of candies slipped from his fingers as a rose thorn caught his cuff and he curled his foot up to catch it on his ankle. With a kick, it flew up and he grabbed it.

"I should like to visit with Sigyn, if you please," Odin said.

Loki dropped the gifts on a nearby table. "I will see if the midwife will allow it." He rolled his eyes and grumbled in a goodhearted voice, "Somehow, ___I _as her ___husband _am not worthy to render judgment on whether she should have visitors."

Odin did crack a smile at that. "The same thing happened to me. I was actually sent out of the room to fetch various things for most of the labor."

Loki snorted and went back to speak with the midwife.

"My dear," Odin said. "I...I have spoken as king for what may be the last time."

Frigga frowned and led Odin to the comfortable chairs. "It must be hard—letting go after holding on so long."

Odin only nodded with a bleary expression. "My son does not realize how heavy the crown will be on his brow."

"He will learn in time," Frigga whispered. "And he will have Loki to help him." She smirked. "And if Loki can learn to let Sigyn ___breathe _without his presence, then she will be here as well to help." Odin nodded uncertainly but grasped Frigga's hands wearily. "You are tired, my love. The Odinsleep will be a blessing to you."

"Indeed," Odin said softly. "I will rest at last."

Frigga frowned and said sympathetically, "These months that you have put off the Odinsleep have drained you."

Odin leaned close. "I would not have missed them for anything. Not Thor's coronation. Not Sigyn and Loki's wedding. Not the birth of this child." He sighed deeply. "But I am weary—weary of worry and doubt and constant questions that will have no easy answer."

Frigga only nodded as Loki emerged with a smile. "It seems that we are granted reprieve and will be allowed audience." He rubbed his hands together and said with mock seriousness, "Do you suppose we bow or genuflect or just grovel when we enter?"

Frigga rolled her eyes and Odin chuffed out a short laugh. With a heavy sigh, the Allfather said, "Then let us visit the lady before our privilege is recanted."

Sigyn was clothed in a fresh, emerald green silk night gown and sat in their bed, propped with pillows. The little enchanted stone Loki had given her was tight in one hand and a book was in another. She shifted slightly and stuffed the book under a pillow nearby, flushing and hoping no one caught a glimpse of the naughty picture on the cover. She nodded—the only way one could recognize the Allfather when one was confined on one's back—and said with a smile, "Your Majesty."

Odin smiled and came to her, holding out his hands so that she could feel them. "I am glad to see you. It does an old man's heart good to see his daughter-by-marriage and his grandchild so well." He perched on a chair by the bed. "How has your day been?"

Sigyn smiled. "We have been mainly discussing the mischief that Loki has been as a youth." She flushed and a little frown of anger crossed her face. "Of course, it is agreed that he will have little time for such nonsense once Narvi is here."

Odin nodded thoughtfully. "It is true that everything changes when a child enters a union." He smiled softly. "Sometimes it will seem as though you will not have a thought of your own, let alone a moment to rest."

Frigga came to stand by Odin. "I hope that nothing I have said has overly upset you," she murmured. "I had only thought to while away a bit of time telling you of Loki's childhood."

Sigyn swallowed heavily. Truthfully, she felt much more inclined to listen to Loki and his tales now that she had slept so deeply and felt so well. But there was _so much—_so much anger and resentfulness and accusations. She honestly didn't know whether or not to hold him close or to punch him in the gut. "I have enjoyed your company," she finally replied.

Loki watched from the corner of the room as his father beamed at Sigyn. He was doting on Sigyn as any grandfather-to-be might. When had he gotten so old? So tired? Of course, the Allfather was not feeble, but there was an aura of fretful weariness about him. Had the years gone so quickly that he had not noticed?

He frowned at the package of chocolates in his hand. Yet...they didn't even seem to notice that he was not a part of this little circle, nor that he was in the room... He felt a prickle down his spine, a brief tickle really, of magic as it pooled around Sigyn's hands. "Purple feathers," he said suddenly.

Sigyn paused and for a moment, the rush of magic seemed to pause around her too. With an embarrassed flush, she brought one hand to cover her face. "Is this ___really _the time to bring that up?"

Odin glanced at Frigga in confusion, but Frigga shrugged. She was as mystified as he was about 'purple feathers'. Odin recovered and cleared his throat. "What about purple feathers?"

Sigyn groaned, hiding her face with both hands. "It's terribly embarrassing." She took a deep breath and dropped her hands down dramatically. "I...I was pecked rather soundly by one of my father's chickens. I said something foul to it and the poor thing turned purple and laid green eggs." She tried to laugh and shrug. "My father took some of the purple feathers and sold them since we could not sell the eggs."

Odin's eye lit up in sudden understanding. "Really?" he choked out as laughter crowded in his throat.

"Someone bought them," Sigyn continued. "I don't know how or who. But afterward, the chicken molted and had rust brown feathers-"

"Ah-HA!" Odin barked, pointing at Sigyn and grinning madly at Frigga. "I ___told_you that the feathers were purple!"

Frigga's laughter choked her. "Oh...my dear..." She took at glance at her younger son and went shamefaced. "Loki—I'm so sorry-"

"What is it?" Sigyn asked innocently.

Odin's laughter filled the room. "I bought a rather beautiful straw hat with a purple satin ribbon on the crown. I paid the milliner to add a ribbon rosette with a golden medallion in the middle and then to surround it all with the most amazing purple-"

"Purple feathers!" Sigyn gaped.

Frigga laughed as well, but only nervously. "But when I opened the box, Sigyn, there were the most _common_, rust brown chicken feathers on it."

Sigyn groaned and threw herself back into her pillows. "No...oh, no."

Odin smirked at his wife, tickled for the truth come out. Frigga choked back her tears and forced a laugh. "Some blamed Loki for it—that he had ruined it or bespelled it." She smiled nervously. "And now we find-"

"It was all my fault," Sigyn groaned again. She shuddered. "I suppose that I could try again for purple feathers, but we might end up with a worse result." Her voice hitched. "The poor dear thing might end up bald. Or a rat. Or something worse."

"I would not let that happen," Loki snorted.

Sigyn seemed to consider his words carefully. At last she said, "I believe that you would try to stop it from happening to prevent harm to Asgard."

"Indeed," Odin chortled. His smile extended to Frigga. "I ___told _you that I had purchased purple."

Frigga huffed. "Sigyn—this is what happens when a man is proven right. He becomes unbearably huffy about it."

Sigyn laughed at that thought. "I doubt my Loki would do that."

"Still," Odin said, standing. "I believe that I must give Loki my apologies." Loki looked up at him warily. The Allfather had so rarely—if ever—needed to apologize for anything that the circumstances and protocols were almost unknown. Odin offered his hand and smile and said, "My son—it seems that I have been gravely mistaken about you in this." Loki took his hand warily. "I allowed rumors and gossip to flourish and did not pay attention when you said that you had done nothing and for that I apologize."

Loki shook the hand somberly. "I...accept."

The door to the sitting area burst open and Thor's voice swelled. "Loki! Brother!"

"In here, dear," Frigga said with a smile in her voice and a quelling look at the midwife. "We are in the bedroom keeping Sigyn company."

Thor strode in, tossing Mjolnir up and down in the air. "It is the last night before the coronation and the Warriors Three and I were going to go riding in the woods. Perhaps camp overnight. We would like to bring Sif along—if you can spare her."

"Of course," Loki nodded, dropping the Allfather's hand. "I will get my cloak—"

Thor flushed bright red. "Err... we had intended to go off and let you and Mother and Father keep Sigyn company."

Loki stiffened. "I see."

Thor looked into Loki's eyes, unable to read what was in them. Loki hid his thoughts and feeling so deep some said he had none. "We meant no ill-will, Loki. Only to be out one last time..."

Loki looked at him as though he saw a stranger. "Of course." He gestured to a chair against the wall. "I will be here, apparently."

Thor looked at him and nodded slowly. Loki must have been in a strange mood today. Perhaps it was nerves? "We will be back early tomorrow morning in time to bathe and prepare for the ceremonies."

"Go on, son," Odin said.

Thor bowed and then bowed again at Sigyn. "And for you, dear sister, I will bring back a gift. Would you like a pelt to wrap your son in or perhaps something else?"

"Oh, go on with you," Sigyn smiled uneasily. "You hardly need to be worrying about me." She gestured to the room. "I am well accounted for."

"As you say," Thor nodded. He leaned over to peck Frigga on the cheek. "I will see you all on the morrow." With a flourish of scarlet cape, he let himself out.

Loki sat heavily in the chair and watched as his father began gently speaking with Sigyn again. His father clung to her hands and his mother perched on the edge of the bed, adding comments as the Allfather chattered on. Again she was regaled with stories of great battles and history and stories of his youthful pranks.

The afternoon stretched into evening. Frigga and Odin left to attend dinner, and to send up a generous platter of food for him and another platter of simpler fare for Sigyn. The assistant was dismissed for the night and when a second assistant arrived, the midwife left briefly to go home and tend some chores there. Sigyn took a nap, dozing over her book with his little stone clutched tightly in her hand.

Annoyed, he stood and left the room to pace the hallways. Damn his luck. He suddenly saw the wisdom of Thor and Odin being told to take him feasting—at least it passed the time. Loki saw Kendal out of the corner of his eye as she hauled a heavy bucket of water to clean a balcony. _"____So that's where she was re-assigned,"_he thought. With a flick of his hand, he made a swarm of mosquitoes appear around her. As she swatted and cursed the things, she saw him, toying with the little package in his hands. She screamed in wordless anger and ran back inside, trailed by a few of the little bugs.

He laughed a little, crushing the package in his hand. Without another thought, he dumped its crushed contents onto the balcony and kicked the bucket. The water splashed over the sugar candies and the chocolates—softened by his hands' heat—seemed to only plop there. In as little as an hour, there would be a horrendous mess for Kendal to clean up.


	5. The Brothers

And then, quite without anyone knowing how, the wedding day arrived. Memnet was up at dawn, heating water for a bath and waking the maids. The dressmaker yawned as she escorted the dress and frills to the bride's bedroom where the Queen had already brought a hearty breakfast. Sigyn was bathed and pampered, her long hair left flowing freely down her back and her skin radiant and finally put in the dress Loki had chosen. The veil was set on her head and the frothy lace Loki had ordered set over her eyes arranged.

With surprise, Sigyn felt an arm ring placed on her arm. "What is this?" she asked softly. Her fingers brushed the woven strands of metal and the delicate jewels set into it.

Frigga smiled and said, "A gift from Loki, though where he found someone to work gold in such delicate and beautiful strands and then weave our crest into them, I do not know." Frigga settled the design on Sigyn's arm. "It is beautiful—made from red, white and yellow gold."

"It must be beautiful," Sigyn breathed in wonder.

Frigga smiled benignly and smoothed out her own green dress and handed Sigyn an armload of flowers.

"It is tradition for the bride to offer flowers to the guests," Frigga explained. "It is to wish them happiness."

"Where is Gwyneth?"Sigyn fretted.

"Jonathan and Gwyneth arrived a short time ago. She is in the hallway with him, waiting to see you."

"Oh, good. I think she will be a lovely flower maid," Sigyn sighed peacefully.

"She is dear, and practically beside herself in her excitement."

Sigyn supposed that it was fortunate that she could not see what was going on or else her nerves would have deserted her. Frigga walked her to the large formal garden and left her with Hogun so that she could take her place beside Odin. Little Gwyneth beamed and chattered constantly, which was soothing in a backwards way.

Then the drums sounded and the guards opened the doors. Gwyneth bounced ahead first, spreading leaves and petals down the aisle. Hogun gently led her past the guests—some of whom were Asgardian and some who apparently weren't based on the languid whispers floating around her. Thor and Loki stood at the end of the grassy aisle, waiting as she drifted down to them.

As Hogun stopped and tucked her hand into Loki's, the drummers thundered a quick staccato and then silenced. Sigyn flushed beneath her veil. At least Frigga had told her this part.

Odin stood before them with a golden chain belt set with small emeralds in his hands. He smiled at Sigyn and then at Loki. Loki smiled back and nodded. "Friends," he boomed. "You have been called to witness the vows of Prince Loki Odinson to Sigyn—vows of fidelity, vows of protection and vows of honor." He took a deep breath. "Who will guarantee these vows?"

Sigyn swallowed deeply. In all the preparations, she had not even asked about the guarantor—the one who would protect her, cherish her and honor her as Loki's wife until the end of her days and take her into his house and join her to his family should Loki be called to Hela before her.

In the silence, Thor spoke with a wide smile. "I guarantee these vows. I pledge to honor the lady as Loki's wife, to protect her as I would my own, to see that she never wants so long as she lives and then to honor her as she is called to Hela."

The crowd roared its approval and Sigyn wavered, leaning a little into Loki. The cheering echoed around her and she shook for a moment. There was again the feeling of terrible cold in her belly and for a moment, she fought to quell her rising bile.

Odin must have gestured for silence. "Do you accept this guarantee, Lady Sigyn?"

She nodded and said firmly, "I do." The guarantee was to protect the lady in the event that her husband died before her—allowing her the security of knowing she would have a roof overhead and food for her family. Usually, it was a member of the man's family and the higher in status that guarantor was, the better for the lady's status in the community. Of course, as a member of the royal family, even as a widow she would be guaranteed income and housing. Still, it would have meant more to her had Hogun been the guarantor—or Fandral or Volstagg, come to that.

The crowd cheered again and for a moment, Loki felt blindly enraged. Had it been any other man, he might have felt better—even terse Hogun would have appeased him. But somehow it felt as though Thor was joining in the marriage. He squeezed Sigyn's hand as though to reassure himself that she was actually there.

Odin spoke again. "These vows have been guaranteed by Thor Odinson, pledged by his oath to honor the Lady Sigyn until the end of her days. Will you now pledge to each other?"

Sigyn smiled at Loki. "I pledge to you. I pledge that I will forsake all others, love all that you love and curse all that you curse. I pledge that your heart, your happiness and your life will forever be in my mind, my heart and the fountain of my happiness. I pledge my heart and soul to you. I pledge this in the name of the Allfather, for now and forever."

The crowd unexpectedly cheered and Sigyn felt rocked by their approval. Little Gwyneth cheered and shouted, along with Jonathan and Gwyll and Boyar. She smiled unsteadily at Loki as he took her hand and waited for quiet.

Loki's voice was tender and firm. "I pledge to you. I pledge that I will forsake all others, love all that you love and curse all that you curse. I pledge that your heart, your happiness and your life will forever be in my mind, my heart and the fountain of my happiness. I pledge my heart and soul to you. I pledge this in the name of the Allfather, for now and forever."

Another cheer started. Sigyn smiled as she heard Volstagg and Fandral bellowing with all their might only to be drowned out by Thor. Slowly, she drew closer to Loki and felt him raise the veil and his lips brush hers.

"Do it properly, Brother," Thor laughed.

And Loki did—dragging her close and wrapping his arms around her so tightly she felt almost smothered. His lips pressed harder against her, his tongue snaking out and teasing hers. Sigyn felt her blood boil and her magic rise like the fine bubbles that sometimes are in wine and tickle one's nose. Suddenly it burst from her in a brilliant blaze of firefly-like sparks.

The crowd roared in approval. Many assumed that it was Loki's doing—a fine piece of flare to mark the occasion. Several clapped—from Gwyneth's happy claps to the uncertain pounding of other, larger hands. Loki only smiled and brought their hands before Odin.

Odin smiled uncertainly, unsure of the display. It had not seemed to harm anything, though, and so he continued with the ceremonies. Wrapping the golden chain around their joined hands, he said solemnly, "Let these two be joined together, having pledged their oaths to protect and to honor one another." Under his watchful eye, they kissed each others' rings in the kiss of fidelity. Sigyn fidgeted with the bouquet slightly and Loki turned her palm over in the chain for the kiss of protection. Again Sigyn felt her magic bloom and again there was a shower of sparks in green and gold around them and snakes of sparks danced at their feet.

"I present Prince Loki and Princess Sigyn," Odin shouted with joy.

Everyone cheered—and Thor loudest of all. Sigyn flushed at all the noise, leaning against Loki for support. They raised their chained hands together over their heads and the crowds went wild. Loki turned and took the chain free and, as it was long enough still, wrapped it around her waist as a golden chain belt. Sigyn felt another wave of cheering, stomping, laughing and clapping. Then she felt a small body crash into her and tiny arms wrap around her waist.

"What is this?" Loki said in a low, frustrated voice.

"You did it!" Gwyneth shouted. "You married him and you really are a princess!" She jumped up and down and seemed set to knock Sigyn over before Jonathan managed to thread through the crowd to pull her away.

Sigyn smiled at the little girl and passed her one of the flowers from her bouquet. Gwyneth gasped and squealed with delight, dancing in a circle as Loki lead Sigyn through the crowd.

The crowd was pleasantly polite, accepting her gifts of flowers and giving the appropriate well-wishes. None had a cross word to say against either of them, but Loki fancied he could feel it in the air, unspoken but present. It did not miss his notice that while the ambassadors were equally diplomatic and polite, the common folk who had gathered were more enthusiastic and were almost to the last one thrilled to see Sigyn more than most anything else. She had things to speak to each one about as well—asking Gwyll about his family, Boyar about the progress on the cellar, Jonathan to take Gwyneth where she could be seated—and then tried to make some attempt at small talk as they greeted the guests. He guided her through the crowd, smiled at the right times and nodded at the right times.

Inside the great hall, the feast was well on its way. The usual crowd had gathered around Thor, listening to him speak on some battle or other. The Warriors Three had a table, along with Sif and were speaking amongst themselves. Loki turned to greet an ambassador from somewhere and be congratulated and when he turned around, Sigyn was being sat at a table of elves. He walked up quietly and caught the last of the ambassador's words.

"—and I can't tell you how interested we are in your work with the veteran soldiers," she was saying. "We have faced similar problems in our battles and very often the soldiers have had problems receiving help."

Sigyn flushed becomingly. "It has been a pleasure to help the soldiers. You saw little Gwyneth at the wedding. You might say she started it. But it was Odin's planning and foresight that made the funding possible."

"I see," said the ambassador. "And the healers were volunteering their time before then?"

"Yes," Sigyn nodded. "Right now we are looking for ways to increase the budget and to expand, but we need skilled healers." She smiled and nodded her head. "I have been considering doing some kind of expanded apprenticeship that would allow the apprentices a small sum in exchange for serving, but I don't have all the details yet."

Loki cleared his throat. "Sigyn, perhaps we should finish greeting our guests?"

Sigyn gaped for a moment. "My dear, you are right, of course. I must be excused."

"Of course," the elf tittered with amusement. "So long as before we leave we can exchange ideas. Your healing centers are a good idea that we would like to implement and perhaps we can provide healers for a short time to see how they are run...?"

Loki opened his mouth but Sigyn smiled and said simply, "We can try, but my husband invariably chooses to surprise me and whisk me away." She stood beside Loki, offering flowers to everyone at the table. "And we are just married..."

"Of course. We will exchange letters then."

"Excuse us," Loki said simply and sketched a bow. Leading Sigyn to another table he whispered, "I thought that you were supposed to be with ___me_?"

Sigyn bit her lip. "Of course, my darling. I simply got carried away." She swayed gently to the music as they walked to the next table.

It was late in the afternoon before Loki and Sigyn were able to escape to their apartments. Odin and Frigga were milling around, as was Thor and his little band so none of the guests were neglected or lacked company.

Sigyn swayed still as though she could hear the music. Loki smiled at her silliness and whirled her around in the empty hallway. For a few moments, they danced slowly and gently. Then a cheer was heard from the party and again they pulled a bit apart and continued.

Loki tucked her hand in his arm again. "We are going to my apartments. There is a chamber adjoining mine for you and your finery has been moved there." He brushed a kiss on her cheek. "It is Thor's gift to us that we will this entire hall to ourselves for a fortnight."

Sigyn looked surprised. "Oh?"

Loki nodded. "He is staying in one of the guest chambers to allow us privacy." Loki pulled open the door and led Sigyn inside. A tray was waiting of delicacies, pastries and candies. A brightly wrapped package of chocolate covered strawberries sat on the table. The fireplace was roaring and candles were lit. He gestured and the fire died down.

Sigyn wrapped her arms around him. "Oh my love, you are mine at last."

Loki chuckled. "Has the waiting been so terrible? I have scarcely seen you and every moment has been—"

"Awful!" she giggled as she kissed him. "If I did not have the healing place, I should have gone mad waiting for this day."

Sigyn smiled and undid the veil. Loki's hands were ready to receive it and then he undid the laces on her dress. Quite easily, their clothes landed on the floor and he pushed her to his bed. Only afterward, as night began to fall and Sigyn napped peacefully in his arms, Loki's hand wandered over her now swelling belly. For a moment, it seemed as though her belly were strangely cool. She shifted in her sleep and he withdrew his hand with a frown.

The fortnight passed quickly as they lazed about the apartments. Loki showed her the bathing chambers he shared with Thor. Sigyn giggled as he described the immense room to her—mirrors on one wall with wood frames to resemble windows, marble columns and marble tiles in a mosaic on the floor and a special, small tub fed directly from a hot spring for extremely hot water. The hot spring water would then overflow into the huge sunken pool. In the middle it was up to Loki's waist and at the ends it was up to his shoulders and was long enough for several strokes of swimming. There was a long, marble topped table at one side of the pool for the princes to be massaged. A smaller room on the other side of the pool was heated by rocks that had been baked in a fire and then water poured over them, which seemed rather boring and pointless to Sigyn until Loki undressed her on one of the benches. They spent time on the balcony speaking quietly of various things as he watched the starlight in the skies. Another afternoon was spent in the private gardens that the brothers had trained in as youths, laying in the grass and feeling the sun bake into their skin. Loki picked up a stick then and Sigyn laughed as he guided her through one of the basic exercises in swordplay.

It was on the last evening as they supped nude in front of the fire when Loki brought forth a tiny box. "My love, this is something that I have made for you," he said.

Sigyn grinned and took the box. She shook it lightly and listened to the rattle. She poked and prodded the box but it remained stubbornly silent about its contents. Finally she opened it and felt inside.

"A...rock?" She frowned expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"Not just any rock," Loki said. He took a book from his numerous bookshelves and set it before her. Guiding her hand, he had her palm the "rock" and skim it over the words on the page.

Sigyn's face was shocked. "I...I can...see it." Her hand flew over the page again. "I see the words in my mind. And there—there is the illustration of the white hind and the hunter." Again her hand skimmed the page. "Loki..."

"I thought you might want to have some small thing to do as our son grows." He shrugged modestly but grinned wickedly. "And I _do _have a few recommendations."

"I can read stories to our children," Sigyn whispered. The words formed perfectly in her mind—even the large, elaborate initial letters for the chapter. "I can...read." With a squeal she launched at him, knocking him backward and covering his head with kisses. "My love—how could you have known that this is what I mourned losing the most? And you have—somehow—made it right..."

"I will escort you to the library," he said with a smile. "Tomorrow morning..." His hand ran over her hip. "After all, this is the last night..."

Thor was eager to be back in his rooms and rose early to begin moving back to his quarters. The married couple had been conspicuous in their absences from court and in their orders to be left alone. Odin had been consulted, but he smiled at Frigga and simply waved the concerns away. But the fortnight had passed and it was time to begin anew with Sigyn as his sister by marriage.

Loki was coming out of his own apartments—fully clothed, despite the reports that he had fully abandoned clothing entirely. Sigyn was wrapped hastily in what appeared to be sheet or cloak and kissed him swiftly before he shut the door in the face of her laughter.

"Brother," Thor beamed. "Married life becomes you."

Loki nodded at the compliment. "It has been a most relaxing fortnight," he said with a smile.

"Good," Thor nodded, shifting his bundle of armor and the like. "I hope that it continues to agree with you. Long life and happy marriage."

"And you have risen early to bid me such good greetings?" Loki asked with a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Only to move back into my apartments. However, Father has asked that we join him in his study after breakfast."

"I will be there," Loki nodded with a grimace.

"All good things end," Thor said sympathetically.

Then there was a bloodcurdling shriek from Loki's apartments. Loki actually ducked at the outrage and Thor dropped his bundle to race to the door. Loki's hand shot out to stop him.

"_LOKI_!" Sigyn bellowed most impressively through the door for someone who had been carefully quiet. "Where are my _CLOTHES_?!"

Loki's smile curled upwards in a devilish grin. "I was wondering when she'd discover that."

Thor glared in good humor at his brother. "What did you do?"

"I moved her clothes from one dresser to another," he shrugged. "I told her to go back to bed until I had broken my fast and seen to the day's activities. Then I was to take her to the library."

"And she cannot see them," Thor reasoned with an eyebrow cocked just so.

Another shriek sounded from the bedroom and something thumped against the bedroom door. Then there was silence.

"Go back to bed like you promised," Loki called in a sing-song voice to the silent door. He grinned wickedly at Thor. "Might I suggest that we go see what Father wants?"

Thor looked at the door carefully. He was about to agree when the doorway opened and Sigyn stepped out—clad in a pair of Loki's pants (which were backwards) and one of his shirts which dripped off of her frame and yet hugged her belly.

Loki's eyes bugged out. "Sigyn," he said with a frown. "I thought you were to go to bed."

"I will go break my fast," Sigyn sniffed.

"Not like that!" Loki snapped.

"___You_poofed my clothes, so this is what I have," she snapped back.

"Good morn, Sigyn," Thor greeted carefully. He pointedly kept his eyes on her forehead, rather than in the view that the open laces of Loki's shirt afforded him.

Sigyn flushed in surprise and then gaped a bit like a fish. "Th-th-th-Thor," she stammered. "Good morn to you as well. Forgive me—I was just returning to the room." And she beat a rather hasty retreat and slammed the door again.

Loki burst into laughter outright and Thor flushed. He tried to sound stern as he said, "That was hardly a pleasant trick for the mother of your child, Loki." But he scarcely got the words out of his mouth before he laughed as well.

"Read your books, dearest," Loki called as he began walking down the hallway again.

Thor picked up his gear and headed to his own doorway. Perhaps it was time for him to consider moving his apartments—perhaps to the next floor. Sigyn and Loki seemed to have developed a penchant for noise as well as drama.

Loki stopped long enough to order a hearty breakfast taken to the Princess Sigyn. The maid curtseyed and hurried off as they went to dine with Odin and Frigga.

"Good morning, Mother, Father," Loki said, picking up a peach and peeling it with a slender paring knife.

"Good morning, son," Frigga smiled. "I am glad to see you." She looked around. "But where is Sigyn? We have much to discuss about the shelter and-"

"She is resting in our room," Loki answered. He grimaced and whispered meaningfully to Thor, "I hope."

Thor laughed outright and could not meet the eyes of anyone at the table. "It seems to me to be a hazard of married life that you are at her mercies as well," he observed.

Loki looked at him seriously and without a trace of humor. "Do you suppose-?" he swallowed heavily. "She would not...?"

"Would not what?" Frigga asked innocently.

"My...my books-" Loki blanched.

Odin and Frigga looked at each other and then Loki curiously. "What about your books? New volumes arrived not three days ago..."

Thor laughed again. "What Loki is not saying is that he has apparently..._convinced _Sigyn to rest in their rooms by moving her clothes. She is confined to their apartments until either he relents or until she find them. _And _she is with his precious bookshelves."

"Oh my-" Frigga frowned and could not finish the words. "Will she be all right?"

"Her?!" Loki blustered. "What about-gah!" He threw down his napkin and pushed his plate away. "I have left her provided for..."

Thor howled with laughter as Odin raised his eyebrows in the particularly fierce I-am-going-to-lecture-you-until-you-beg-for-mercy look. "Loki... Of course you would know Sigyn better than anyone here, but she is an active lady who has found a place and duties to attend to."

Loki scowled and snatched his goblet. With a glare at the table in general he snapped, "Aye—duties and work abound. But have any of you thought of the child? How she will need to rest and to eat rather than constantly chase around Asgard?" He took a hearty swallow and glared again. "And of the soldiers she is working with—who knows _what _they may be ill with that might harm the child?"

Frigga looked abashed. "I had not thought of that... We were so relieved to have found such a need that she could fulfill." She looked sorrowfully at Loki. "We will find ways that she can stay here and still do what she loves." She poked at the eggs on her platter with her fork. "It would be better if she could sew or paint or read or something..."

Loki nodded. "It was my wedding gift to her. I gave her an enchanted rock that would allow her to read pages in a book. I left her books and sent a servant with a breakfast tray so that she could rest this morn." He swallowed another gulp of wine. "Yet now I worry that her temper will flare-"

"Your books," Frigga nodded.

Odin smiled. "The answer is simple, though." All eyes turned towards him. "As a princess, she would be expected to attend the concerns of the people of Asgard. In...other circumstances, I would expect each of your wives to take a turn listening to the concerns of the realms. Why not have her sit with you as you do your turn today? It will ease your mind that she is within your reach as well as allowing her something to do with her mind."

Loki smiled as he considered it. There would be the undeniable relief that he would have her in his sights all the while and he would be sure of her activities. She would be sitting and listening, rather than hieing off with Frigga. Or worse yet, _Sif—_who might yet relish having Sigyn cornered while he was occupied. He turned the situation around in his mind. "She is not familiar with statecraft," he noted absently.

"She could learn," Frigga said in the same absent tone.

Odin nodded. "It will do the people good as well to see her. I'm sure she is still radiant in her motherhood." He took a hearty swill of wine. "And it will give the people time to know her before she is confined for the delivery."

"We should announce that quickly," Frigga nodded. "It should not seem as though we were ashamed."

"I will trust you to take that in hand," Odin replied to her, then he addressed the table at large. "However, there is one more thing that I would speak to all of you about."

All eyes again turned towards the Allfather. For a moment, his massive shoulders were bowed as though he bore the entire nine realms on them. Then he straightened and said softly. "The Odinsleep is coming soon. I would have my subjects know that their safety is assured." He looked sorrowfully at them. "Would that I could have two thrones that both of you could have one. However, I have the one throne and that is a heavier burden than either of you truly know.

"Both of you have made me proud. Thor—you have been glorious on the field of battle. Loki—you are an indispensable tactician and your ways of negotiating what is best for Asgard are second to none. It has been a most...perplexing and delightful problem to decide between you two who will succeed me."

Odin's eye gazed with fondness at Thor. "In light of the Frost Giants and the recent attacks, I must choose you, Thor."

Thor swallowed heavily and nodded solemnly.

"When will the glorious day take place?" Loki asked insolently.

"I have decided that it will take place on the first of Heyannir—the time when we harvest what we have sown. And I would hazard that I have sown well to have such fine sons."

"That is when Sigyn's child will be close at hand," Thor noted. "Is it...perhaps an unfortunate time?"

Odin looked at Thor. "I would rather have it sooner than later. The Odinsleep I have cheated to witness the last years with you is hunting me now, but I do not regret it. I have been amazed at your skill, your cunning and your bravery. It has been a honor to have had such a valiant defender as my son. However, Loki and Sigyn came first—even before you were crowned." At last he looked at Loki. "It is to your benefit that your guarantor gains the crown."

"Perhaps," Loki gritted out. "But forgive me if, as I don't intend to go off to fight in battles and leave Sigyn behind in the first place, it doesn't necessarily feel like it." He dropped his goblet with a clank. "I must leave to fetch Sigyn if she is to sit with me."

Sigyn was smirking at the book that Loki had left on the table. Several of the volumes were of magic—strange words and incantations that left her head aching. This one was new—only three days in Loki's hands—and what an eye-opening book it was. Even without the lurid and graphic illustrations, the words alone and what they suggested were...wickedly arousing. Undoubtedly this was the book she was meant to be reading in his absence.

The door crashed open and she heard the sharp rap of boots on the floor. She turned a little towards the door. "Loki? Is that you?"

Loki growled at her. For a moment his eyes turned red as he considered her calmly sitting on the bed wearing naught but a thin sheet and reading. With a cruel swipe, he brushed the book out of her hands and it landed with a thud against the wall. Tearing at the sheet, he dragged the sheet away and drug her legs around him. He hissed at her hands as they came up to touch him and with a nod made his clothing vanish. Mounting her, he heard her moan and paid attention to little else but the burning in his veins. His release came almost without sweetness and brought no peace to his mind.

The little catch in Sigyn's panting breaths gave him pause as he released her and went to clean himself. "My...my love? What has happened?"

He did not turn towards her at all. He almost said ___Thor was chosen as king and I hate it. I hate that I have never been enough in Odin's eyes. I hate that the only reason that he has even noticed me is because of_you ___and if I were still alone I would have had to hear about Thor's coronation that much sooner. _Instead, he growled something unintelligible.

Sigyn bit back her tears. Her ankles and thighs ached and she was hurting inside. He had never been so rough with her. His hands had been so cold that it had hurt to have him hold her and so tight that she though that she was going to scream. What on Asgard had happened to the mischievous lover from just hours ago? Gingerly she curled up again on the bed, freezing in the chilly air and fumbled for her blanket.

A dress came and smacked her side. "Get dressed," Loki ordered. "It is meet that you will attend the audiences with me today."

"As you wish," Sigyn whispered softly. Loki rang a bell somehow—perhaps a pull or rope that she had passed by—and Memnet came bustling in. In no time, she was dressed, her hair brushed and she was ready to be at Loki's side.

Loki led a much subdued Sigyn through the palace, whispering to her. "You will not be required to render either judgment or verdict. You will sit and smile and listen attentively to each petition. _I _and I alone will render the verdict. If you need to leave briefly, you may, but then you will return until the shift is done." Sigyn only nodded in response.

Thor met them in the hallway. "My brother, I would speak with you."

Sigyn shuddered and a brief aura of static shock bolted out of her hands and towards Thor. Thor braced for the impact but it was more flash than sizzle and felt as though he had run through deep carpets to have static coursing though him. She turned pale and backed away, to be stopped by Loki's hand gripping her elbow.

Thor grimaced. His brother's face was a tight mask that almost hid his fury. Sigyn's solemn features gave only the slightest hint of her confusion and whatever else she was feeling. Not for the first time, he cursed the scars formed a bland and emotionless mask. "Bother—Loki...," He gestured down the hallway and spoke softly. "Allow Sigyn to return to your rooms and, if you must, vent your anger on me."

Loki felt the growl low in his throat. "Is that an order, ___Sire__?_"

"Hardly," Thor said gently. "There is no reason for you to be angry. You and your family will always be in my care—none of you will want." He sighed and tried again to placate Loki. "Let Sigyn go and take me to task. It is unworthy of you to-"

"To _what?!_"

"To take your temper to one who has no idea of why you are angry," Thor said even more softly.

Loki finally looked at Sigyn. While she did not pull away from his grasp, she was as far as his hand would allow. There was a scrape on one cheek and her wrists were showing signs of struggle. She worried her lip with her teeth and seemed ever so slightly to crouch to protect her stomach. He released her and she almost fell. With an angry sigh, he said, "Go back—I will deal with this." He flicked his wrist angrily and a servant appeared. "Take the princess back to my room. Find Memnet and allow her to bathe and rest."

It was no small annoyance that the servant took one look at him and hurriedly pulled Sigyn away from him as though he was a monster. Sigyn turned towards him slightly—had she eyes, she would have been looking over her shoulder at him but whether those eyes would be full of love or pity or terror he could not say. She allowed the servant to lead her hastily away, though.

Thor stood silently, watching as well. He had known that Loki would take it badly. Of course, he had known for so long that he was the choice of Odin. Odin had always believed warriors did not hide behind falsehoods and illusions—but had seemed to soften as Sigyn and her child came into their lives. At last he said, "Loki—I am sorry-"

"Sorry for what?" Loki sneered, glaring at Thor. "Sorry for being the favored child? Sorry for depriving me of any of the glory? Truly it escapes me what you could be sorry for!"

"There is but one throne," Thor protested. "And Odin is old and set in his ways. He believes still that a king must be strong and...well..." He shrugged. "It is as his father and his father's father would have done it."

"It must be so ___nice_to always be the biggest and to always get what you want," Loki sneered. "So ___pleasant_to get with one nod of your head what it takes others lifetimes of achievement to only fall short of."

"But we can change this," Thor insisted. "Allow Father to have his way in this—to make his time before the Odinsleep peaceful." He looked at Loki's murderous gaze. "At the coronation, I will name Sigyn's child my heir and you as my regent as I swore to you. We will still split the audiences of the day as we do now..."

Loki glared at him. "Do not tease me in this matter, Thor."

"I promise you. I swear that this is what shall be. Let us be brothers and not tear Asgard or ourselves to bits in this matter."

"Father will banish you for such..._blasphemy_," Loki said with a gleam in his eye.

Thor looked at the floor for a moment. Perhaps Loki's humor had returned with such an acidic comment. Then he looked at his brother again. "For all of our sakes, let us do as Father wills and then, when I am king—we can find a better way..."

Loki only nodded thoughtfully. Then he looked down the hallway again. "I shall be late for my audiences if I tarry further."

Thor nodded. ___Please, consider my words, my brother,_he silently begged. "I will not keep you then. At noontime, I will exchange places."

"At noontime." Loki walked stiffly to the audience chamber.

Loki moped through the audiences. There was no other word for it. Part of him railed against the Norn, against the dark and malicious fate he was born to. Part of him whimpered to go back to Sigyn and see to her—to soothe her with charming words and little gifts. And somehow, somewhere, there was a part of him that simply wanted to hide—craven and cowardly and simple as that was. So, he attended to his people with half an ear and his attention wandering elsewhere in the palace like a lost child.

And the docket was in no way interesting—three small crimes, a contract negotiation, greetings of an ambassador who was due to leave in two days for Alfheim, a few other squabbles, a messenger or two, and a handful of the obligatory greetings of groups of people... Nothing really struck his fancy or interest, allowing that wayward attention to wander further.

"-and we would gift these flowers to the Princess Sigyn," said the ambassador from Alfheim. She smiled and one of her entourage brought forward an immense bouquet of lilies. "We will be, of course, forwarding contracts so that we can work together on healers and sanctuaries for our wounded warriors."

Loki started slightly, caught ___again _paying only half attention. He came forward to receive the gift. "I will send for her at once," he said apologetically and with a wave of his hand. In a credible time, she appeared again with a polite smile and clothed in a dress with long sleeves that hid her fading bruises. A jauntily placed hat with a short lacy veil hid her face. "My love, the ambassador from Alfheim..."

"Your Highness," the ambassador greeted warmly. "If you do not recognize my voice, we met at your wedding. We spoke briefly about setting up healing sanctuaries-"

"For the soldiers," she nodded. "Of course I remember." She flushed becomingly and modestly. "We meant to offer places for apprentice healers here so that they could learn about how we ran the shelters."

"We prefer the term 'Sanctuaries'," the ambassador said fluidly. She stepped forward. "Regrettably, I must hasten home as my daughter-by-marriage is expecting her first. I will send messengers to complete our plans and next spring we will begin." She curtseyed and offered the bouquet. "I would like to extend our congratulations again and to offer you these flowers as a token of our friendship."

Sigyn took them and murmured her thanks as Loki took her elbow. She buried her face in the blooms so that no one could see the slight tug at her mouth—the grimace of pain that she couldn't suppress. Thankfully, the ambassador was ready to leave and said her good-byes.

Loki waved for a servant to take the flowers and another to bring a chair and cushion. As soon as the two servant women saw Sigyn, the frowns on their faces cleared and they smiled and hastened to make her comfortable. He frowned as one of the Star Guard unbent so far as to offer her his hand for her to step up to her chair.

Sigyn bent to Loki and whispered. "Is it always like this? You'd think that I was the first to bear a babe, there are so many offering their aid."

Loki chuckled darkly. "Ahh—that is the sweetness. Now comes the drudgery of listening to the complaints."

Sigyn sat to his right and unexpectedly, his attention was soothed and he was able again to focus fully. The contract—one that supplied the warriors of Asgard with wool for cloaks—was luckily fully negotiated and took little more than his witness. A messenger brought word from the northern borders that no activity had been noted. Loki's lips twitched as he noted how she fought to keep from yawning or fidgeting.

"Your Highness," said the clerk. He coughed and corrected himself, "Oh! Ah...Highness_es_. There are several who would like to meet and offer their congratulations today. Shall I work them into the schedule or invite them back another time?"

"Word travels fast," Loki observed wryly. "What do you think?"

Sigyn thought for a moment. "Do not allow any who are expecting to be met at a given time to be delayed, but well-wishers can be worked in I should think."

"As you say," Loki said with a wave.

At first, it was one or two people who offered congratulations and well-wishes—the two maids that Sigyn had met her first day at the palace who came to apologize for their rudeness, a guard who guided her to her rooms one day who had a blind son. Word seemed to filter through and then three cooks offered her a snack of cakes and drink with their compliments. The dressmaker came forward to thank her for her patronage—and to offer her services should the princess require more garments in the way of taste and fashion. At last even Cora came forward to send the regards of all those at the shelter, along with another bouquet of wildflowers. And all who came forward offered thanks and good wishes to him as well.

Sigyn smiled at the bouquet, asking hurried questions of Cora—had the cellar work begun, was the well working as planned, how was Jonathan's arm. The healer's assistant beamed at her, glad to see her friend. Even the clerk who was undoubtedly coming to announce the next party paused to see Sigyn thanking Cora for her troubles and smiled his approval.

Loki sat back, lazily watching as she spoke softly with Cora. It was in his head to clear his throat or make some interruption so that they could hasten through the duties of the day, but Sigyn seemed replete and content to speak with everyone. Truthfully, as Loki's eye wandered outdoors he saw that it was nearly time for Thor to take over. The hours had flown past with Sigyn at his side. That he had been blessed and congratulated and so on for these hours had soothed some sting in his ego as well.

"Loki," Sigyn began. "Would you excuse me for only a moment?" She flushed and gestured towards the door.

"Of course, my dear," he purred. "Do you wish to return here or go rest in our rooms?"

"I will only be a moment and return," she grinned back at him.

Loki waved for a servant to lead her away. A gentlemanly older fellow came forward and offered his elbow. Sigyn spoke softly to him—some compliment or other—and he smiled and flushed a little in pleasure. Loki frowned, not liking the bite of jealousy—but then felt himself ashamed as Sigyn turned towards him and blew him a kiss.

Loki brooded, waiting for her to return. These wild swings of jealousy were not new to him—indeed, he had felt them his whole life for none other than his brother. But the fact that he would swing so hard one way and then another was unsettling. And, it made him vulnerable—_too vulnerable_.

Hard on that thought came the thought of Frost Giants. His father had told him so many frightening stories that he had at one point had almost constant nightmares of them wiping out his entire family. Were they even now plotting some invasion? Would they harm Sigyn or would it be some worse torment?

Thor stood in the doorway, watching Loki stare at nothing and wait for Sigyn. "Brother," he greeted. "How goes it?"

Loki started and sat straighter, looking at his elder brother. "It goes well."

"You seemed lost in thought," Thor observed. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled. "Mooning over your love already? She has only been gone a few moments."

"Hardly," Loki snorted defensively, which only caused Thor to smile harder. "Although I think that having Sigyn sit with me might have been a mistake."

"Oh?" Thor teased again. "I would think her company would make the time fly by more quickly."

"She is a balm to these hours," Loki agreed. "Truthfully, the time has never flown so quickly."

"I saw that you had many who wished to speak with you," Thor said. "Is there any ill news?"

"Well-wishes and congratulations, but no ill news." Loki fought against his childhood habit to bite at his nails as he thought. "I do not like that we have heard nothing of the Frost Giants. To have had so many incursions and then to have suddenly stopped—it seems too easy."

Thor frowned and nodded. "Almost as if they had found what they sought."

"But nothing goes missing," Loki insisted. "We have had no complaints of thefts, the weapons vault has been unmolested, the wizards guild reported no complaints..." He frowned at nothing. "If they have found something, they have not moved it. Nor has there been another attempt on Sigyn."

Thor swallowed heavily. "Loki—I love both you and Sigyn. Is there any small chance that she is...well, ___beholden _to them? Some spell that will compel her to do Asgard ill?"

Loki's emerald eyes went wide for a moment before snapping green fire. "I think _not_!" he growled. "I myself have checked her every evening for injury or spell-hurt and the only thing that I have found is her penchant for ___fireworks_." Thor looked confused and Loki sighed, "Sometimes her sparks cause her to have some slight burn on her fingertips."

"I thought as much," Thor agreed heartily. "Sigyn is too good in her heart to wish us ill. I had been worried, but I am relieved."

Loki growled again and nodded. "I think we will not find what we seek here on Asgard. I think we should go and see what Jotunheim is about."

"Loki," Thor warned. "That is far too dangerous. Father would never allow it."

"If we forestall an invasion, then he will thank us," Loki replied.

"True—but he will still punish us."

Loki only nodded, again plotting and knotting his thoughts. Sigyn reappeared, looking somewhat refreshed and more comfortable. If she was startled at Thor's appearance in her absence, she gave no sign as her hand was set in Loki's elbow. There was a brief moment as they went over the host of activities today and then they left.

"My love," Loki said as they walked down the hallway. "I...I am sorry for treating you so ill this morning."

Sigyn stumbled a little over nothing. "I... Wh-what happened?"

"I lost my temper," he grimaced. "Thor is the chosen one to become king." He looked at her. She did not seem relieved or happy or any of the normal reactions that he had come to expect when people heard news about Thor. Usually the maids cheered and bounced up and down in their happiness. Instead, this little one brushed closer and only nodded a little. "I was...overwrought," he added lamely.

She only nodded again. After another turn down another hallway, she said. "I should like to rest. The morning was exciting for me and I wish to think about what you have said."

Loki felt his mouth go dry. ___Dammit. _Instead of cursing, he only said, "Allow me to take you to the bedroom, then." A plan crystallized in his head and almost without thinking, he lied, "I cannot rest. There are some few things that I must go do." Sigyn accepted his words without question and he winced at the lie. "I will wake you when I return and apologize properly."

The spell components were easily gathered from his study and he was easily concealed. A lifetime of ducking into shadows and around corners played well into his intentions. Quite quickly, he found himself on a frozen plateau of Jotenheim.

He sucked in a deep breath. The others complained often that the first breath of the air here seared the lungs with cold, but he had never found it so. Great icebergs slowly turned overhead, occasionally plowing together into sharp shards of ice. It seemed dark but whether that was only because Asgard was so blindingly bright was a matter for debate. The frost made lacy patterns here and there—like frozen flowers. This place even had a strange sort of charm—the sort of dark, solitary charm that drives men into desserts and up mountains to allow their minds to expand and to simply ___think_.

He reached to pull his hood up over his ears when a Jotun approached him. "Halt in the name of Laughey!" he barked with glee.

"I had no intention of going anywhere but ___to _Laughey," Loki snorted, but let his hands fall. "So if you would be a good...fellow and lead me, I would be obliged."

The Jotun frowned a little with a slightly perplexed moue on his lips. Then with a grunt, he poked his club into Loki and they walked to Laughey's throne.

Loki sauntered with nonchalant grace, but was continually aware of the curious eyes that followed him. It seemed that he could not pass an icy crag without some portion of it moving and walking along for a while. The impulsive plan seemed...somewhat ill-advised now.

A great blue bulk with gleaming ruby eyes lounged on an immense icy throne, watching him with interest. "What business do you have here, ___Odin's__son_?" a female voice laughed.

"I'll discuss this with Laughey," Loki replied.

The female rose to her full, towering height and then she...___shifted__. _There was no other word for it—all of her feminine curves became masculine planes. Another Frost Giant joined, but then did the reverse—the masculine muscles becoming softer and more curved and finally feminine. Or at least as feminine as several tons of ice elemental could become anyway. She stood to one side of the throne, looking on silently.

Loki smirked, but said nothing.

"So what business does Odin's son have with Jotenheim?" Laughey growled. In the masculine form, the scars on his face were more visible and striking than when they were hidden in a wealth of long silvered hair that vanished with the feminine curves.

For a moment, Loki couldn't help but stare in wonder. He had assumed the ability to shift gender had been an art he alone had mastered. Now it seemed to be a shared trait here. Something—some small thought—tugged at his mind, but he ignored it as he tried to think of what to say next. He sketched a bow. "I have only to ask a few questions and I will be on my way."

The immense female made some slight sound and Laughey waved at her in what seemed to be a negative answer. "So you would break the treaty between Asgard and Jotenheim to get these answers? They must be weighty questions indeed," Laughey laughed. Around him, other giants laughed, their breath coming out in great puffs.

"I could always bring Thor," Loki sniffed.

Laughey only laughed harder and soon most of the other giants were at least chuckling. "And do you think ___that _would make a difference?"

Loki shrugged. "Perhaps. But it would be a shame to see so much of your...city ruined in the process when all I ask are a few answers and then I will be on my way." He made a slight tsk. "And I believe that we can all agree that Thor would ruin the city."

The laughter faded into grunts and grumbles. Laughey was still smirking. "A point for you." He shrugged and glanced at the female. "I will grant you three questions that I will answer in exchange for a boon."

"What kind of boon?" Loki asked before he could think.

Laughey laughed again. "Very well—an interesting first question." Then his scarred face hardened. "I want the Cask of Eternal Winter restored to us."

"Impossible," Loki snorted. "I could not stir it and it is guarded night and day."

"Not impossible for _you_," the female giant said with a lilt in her voice.

Loki smirked at her in what he hoped was a winning smile. Laughey only grinned at her and said, "Faubrati...enough."

She bowed and sat back down in the shadows to watch.

"Next question," Laughey said, propping his less injured cheek on his hand and waving Loki on.

"Why do you seek Sigyn?" he blurted.

"The Asgardian female?" Laughey's eyes glittered. "She has something I want." He waved his hand carelessly again. "But I will let her keep it for a while longer."

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly and he considered his last question. It bothered him that he truly knew little more than he had when he began. What on Asgard did Sigyn have that interested Laughey so much he was willing to be so open about it? Sigyn had little but a few dresses and some animals—surely not more than that. Her powers? What use would such random spellcraft be? Would she die if they were taken from her?

Would he live if she died?

This was getting him nowhere quickly. He had breezed through two of his three questions and was no closer to the information he sought than before he had come. And no one knew of his little side-trip—so no one would miss him until likely after dinner. ___If then._

He gritted his teeth, willing himself to remain calm and collected. He had one more question to go. So should he ask right out what it was that sparked the attacks? A thousand not-helpful potential answers crowded his mind, and he discarded the question. Should he ask what would stop the attacks? Again, a thousand little answers crept around him as he considered potential answers.

"Who else would know of what you seek?" he asked finally.

Laughey grinned a bone-chilling smile and his fanged teeth shown white in the dark shadows. "Odin," he said at last. At Loki's dumbfounded expression, he only smiled wider. "Odin Borson would know what I seek—_and why_."

Loki frowned at that. What did that mean? Changing tactics, he asked, "You realize that I cannot simply go and hand you the Casket?"

Laughey smiled serenely at him. "That's ___four _questions, Odin's son, but I am generous and will answer anyway." His teeth gleamed in the shady darkness. "I know that if you do—an army will rise to your command. And that's what you ___really _want, isn't it? To be on the throne of Asgard?" Laughey shrugged. "You do not have to believe me. You can say that it is all lies. But _why _would I lie? The _truth _is so much more..._entertaining._" Laughey gestured again. "And you can keep the Asgardian female—_Sigyn—_if you like. She and her pitiful powers are of no importance."

Loki snorted. "I see."

Faubrati shifted—a great mountain of shadow—and stared at Loki in a hungry way that made his skin crawl. She seemed about to say something—something hovered on her lips—but then thought the better of it. Laughey only grinned at her.

Loki sketched another shallow bow. "I see that word of your _generosity _has failed to reach my ears," he said with only a trace of sarcasm.

Faubrati smiled at him. Somehow it was warm—different than the hungry smile she had shown before. "I think that you could do anything if you truly wished it," she said. "Even open the Casket." She shrugged. "If you wanted it badly enough." Her voice dipped into an almost seductive croon. "If you wanted..._the ____throne_badly enough."

Laughey nodded with his immense cat-like smile, which only fueled Loki's suspicions and curiosity. When the king waved him away, he smirked and said, "I think you will be waiting still for the Casket at Ragnarok. I cannot bring it to you and you cannot fetch it yourself."

"Little prince," Laughey chuckled. "You already have opened the way for us." He was still smirking when he gestured to the guards who began to poke and force Loki to back down. At last the Asgardian prince produced a whirl of magical fire around himself and vanished.

Faubrati smiled at Laughey. "He suspects, but he does not _know_," she said. "You can see it in his eyes."

Laughey laughed. "Odin has kept it from him. I swore to Odin that I would repay him in kind for taking our son and I will."

She nodded, her eyes frosting over with what might have been tears. "We lost so many years. So much time that he should have been here and made ready to march against Asgard." She stared down at her hands. "I have been watching him from a distance—magically—waiting to see when he would finally be my son again."

Laughey frowned sympathetically. "I had thought that Odin meant to sacrifice him to some heathen ancestor. I had not thought that he meant to raise him as his own."

"My son...my Abornar," Faubrati said softly.

"He is no longer Abornar," Laughey said shortly. "He is _Loki_. A prince of Asgard—and a snake in the breast of Odin."

Faubrati nodded sadly. It still haunted her. Her small Abornar had been presented at the temple. He had been small—stunted because of the privations of war with Asgard. Twelve of Laughey's elite guards had been present at the temple—ready and willing to be cut open in ritual so that Abornar would gain their collected strength and be able to lead them all against hated Asgard.

First, Laughey had cut into the throat of the first guard. The blood filled the chiseled circle in the ground to sanctify it and cleanse the area for spellwork. The second guard's blood had been used to draw the runes—on the Casket, on the floor, and on the altar. The third guard had lost his eyes which were ground to grant Abornar knowledge of the third Eye—knowledge of sorcery and his blood poured under Abornar to grant him extra strength against cold and against heat—but the sixth and seventh were the ones that would give him the power to use that knowledge. Laughey had brushed the baby in careful strokes with his knife, the scars would remain to this day when he assumed his true form. The fourth had stepped forward—to grant the first portion of height and strength—and Laughey had raised his knife to strike in the heart.

Then Odin had broken into the temple. Gungir shot out white hot heat, dazzling and terrifying as two of the elite guards seemed to melt away in front of it. The rest had tried to counter attack while Faubrati slid out the back passage and gathered others to repel the invaders. When she returned, Odin and his hated portal were already open and he was leaving with the Casket and her little Abornar. Laughey was on the ground, his mouth bloody and the burnt stripes carving his face forever and he had cursed Odin and all his kin and promised to repay this crime in kind.

As she had nursed Laughey back to health, holding him close when he shook and burying him in snow when his breath thawed, he had told her over and over again that they would make Odin pay for his crime. In that heated passion, they had plotted to take the son of Thor—the precious, golden grandchild of Odin. As Thor had grown and lacked the ambition or the need to attach to a female, that hope had dimmed. They had almost given up hope of their revenge.

For years now she had waited. At first, she was terrified he would be sacrificed or eaten or something else so terrible her mother's heart could not fathom it. Then words of "Loki" and the "Sorcerer Prince of Asgard" had begun to filter gently across the realms. With her own blood, she had enchanted a slab of clear ice to watch as he grew—for he was her son and her blood was running through those dear veins. A few times they had tried to use his hidden birthright—the Jotun blood still in his heart—to gain entry into Asgard, but Odin's wicked sorcery had been too thick and the portals became death traps rather than safe passage.

And now the little son of lost Abornar would open the way. Even if the child's blood was not Jotun enough to allow full sorcery to attach to it, it was enough to open a portal wherever the child was. There would be no place for the female to hide to stop them from taking the child. Her arms would be filled with her grandchild—and her vengeance.

Loki returned to the palace, unsettled and filled with regret for the whole adventure. He had no more answers now than when he had begun—only the certainty that Sigyn was at the heart of the unrest in the Frost Giants. And the business about asking Odin? He would be consigning himself to death to admit that he had gone without Odin's blessing, let alone to bring back whatever mix of lies and truth they had spouted.

He materialized in the room he shared with Sigyn, watching as she napped on the bed. Restlessly, she flung an arm out to his side—searching for his warmth and pulling back when she did not find him. Her belly seemed to poke out a bit more than this morn as his son grew within.

It was an oddly settling thought—that his son grew safely in her belly and she thrived in the palace. He felt a sense of pride—that he had successfully transplanted her into the hothouse of the palace rather than allowing her to grow in the rocky garden where she had been. He still needed to keep an eye on her—to prevent her from growing overtired as she worked, to see that she ate well and heartily at least as often as he did, and to see that she had friendly hands nearby to aid her—but it was more the gentle maintenance of a well-rooted plant than the constant fiddling of a thin and weak seedling.

Of course, unlike the gentle seedling—his rose had the problem of the peasantry. While he had become more popular since her arrival, it did not escape his eyes or ears that there were still pockets of ill-contents and rabble who would not be content until he was driven from them. While he did not fear some forward attack—his rose had thorns enough—it was the distant attack she would not see coming. He would have to ensure that guards carefully watched her.

Restlessly, she turned again on the bed calling for "Locca" as she did at times. He smiled and moved to lounge on the bed beside her. He let his hand drift gently over her brow, brushing back the strands of hair from her face. He could see it, here and there, that her curves were more generous. His hand trailed down her arm and, almost without thought, his hand settled on her belly.

She was definitely showing and it would quickly come the day when even the loose and high-waisted styles would not hide the fact. His hand only rested there and a small feeling of contentment grew in his belly as he thought of the small child that rested there. The little one depended on his mother for warmth and succor and nourishment without ever having seen her smile, heard her voice or felt her touch. It was a deep, unspoken bond of trust that she would do naught to risk him.

A tiny flutter—scarcely more than the feel of vibration of a drum skin—rippled against his hand. Loki frowned in confusion—was Sigyn ill again? Perhaps something she had eaten? It came again, scarcely more insistent, and Sigyn sighed in her sleep. Loki whispered and flicked his wrist and a small, green stone appeared in his palm. He gently set it against her and watched in silent amazement as it began to pulse in a dual rhythm—one in time to Sigyn's heartbeat and one in a quick tempo of the child's. The little vibration was there again and the stone stirred with a strange blink.

A kick.

Loki's eyes widened as he simply sat in amazement. His hand could not move—almost frozen to the spot.

A kick—it was his child kicking.

It was so soft that had he not been sitting right here with his hand resting on her, he never would have felt it. He would have scarcely noticed it—never seen it. Had it not been for the life-stone he had conjured and it's mysterious signals and flashes, he might have dismissed it as a rumble of her stomach. He paled for a moment, considering the little one. It was so small—so tiny to fit inside her. What would he do? It was all well and good for Thor to spout on about making this child his heir, but really—what assurance was there of that? This little one would have Sigyn, true—but she was barely able to make a living for herself on the island, how would she provide for their child if something were to happen to him?

The stone flashed again—a purple-red flash. It was a rare signal for the life-stone. Loki swallowed deeply as his eyes teared up—it was a flash of a magical life-force. The child would have deep magical skills.

Like his father...

Loki felt a tear sweep down his cheek. This child would be like...him. He wondered for a moment if he would be slightly built or short or slender. Perhaps he would take after Sigyn's father and be more muscular. What a feat that would be—a strong man with command of the magical arts who could become a warmage!

Then all of the wonder and amazement fell away and his mind was suddenly, absolutely and positively clear. All the whirling questions he had asked and all the terrible risks he had taken—it all fell into place.

Laughey wanted his child.

Loki choked on his tears. It all made a terrible sort of sense—Laughey finding her so interesting, the attacks that suddenly stopped, why Laughey had said he would let her keep the thing for a little while longer. What was a few months to a Frost Giant?

_"____But why?!"__ h_is mind screamed for answers.

His logical side answered. _"____To spite Odin. Did it matter if there was any other reason?"_

_"____No."_

_"____Why not simply kill him or his brother?"_

_"____They were too well guarded—too able to defend themselves."_

He stumbled back and away, suddenly ashamed and feeling contaminated. Sigyn started and reached out blindly and without a second thought he bespelled her to sleep again. Coldly and clinically, he drifted out of the room and softly closed the door behind himself.

_"____Rest...let her rest."_It was his only thought. _"____Can't let her know—she would go mad knowing."_For a moment, he could not breathe. _"____She will not know—cannot know—how my own hand had consigned her to death."_

He made himself as invisible as he could and simply vanished to go sit in Sigyn's private garden. The goats and chickens ignored him and he had no desire for company.

_"____The Frost Giants must die."_He felt his heart beat in his ears as his mind echoed terribly. _"____There is no other choice if Sigyn and his child are to live."_

_"____But how?"_reasonably asked his other self.

_"____Thor. Thor hates them. Odin will not move on them—he is content in the truce. The warriors would follow Odin over Thor, though. Thor is just a prince and Odin is king._

_"____Kings can do anything they want—even ignore a threat on their doorstep."_

Loki's thoughts grew dark and dreary. ___"What if there was no choice? What if we attacked during the Odinsleep? Father would not be able to gainsay the attack and Mother would be beside him—she would be safe. Would they follow then? But they would need convincing. Even Thor would need to know that there was an immediate threat."_

But that would be setting a giant loose in a china shop. Once Thor got started in a direction—it was impossible to steer him away. And Laughey would tell of his visit and ridiculous bargain without a second thought. Thor would not stop Odin from punishing him then.

His more cunning side spoke up. ___"So can it be set up so that none are the wiser? Perhaps set it up so that it appears that Laughey would be lying to save his own skin?"_

Some two days later, Loki again stood before Laughey. The other guards were waved casually away and they melted into the uniformly blue-gray landscape. Laughey grinned lazily at him. They had made the official greetings, but not a word more.

Laughey spoke first. "We have a deal already, _Asgardian_." His fang-like teeth glowed in the uncertain light. "Or do you mean to wager more?"

Loki smirked despite the patronizing tone. "Not at all—it would be a waste of my breath and time." He shrugged. "Thor becomes king in Heyannir. The entirety of Asgard will be at the palace to celebrate." He raised an eyebrow confidently. "And once he is king—once Odin is relieved of rank and duty—what do ___you _think will happen?"

Laughey grinned. "I have no idea."

Loki almost snarled. "He will be the most ruthless king Asgard has ever known and will exterminate your kind."

"Really?" Laughey laughed. "I am...trembling."

"We are quits, Giant," Loki said.

"Oh? And the Casket?"

"I leave that for you to figure out." Loki tossed his head dramatically. "You have asked for that which is not mine to give. You obviously already have the means to get into Asgard—so do it yourself."

"You have not delivered it into my hand. I would hardly call us quits."

"You told me nothing either. We are even."

Laughey laughed genuinely. His heart was cooled at the thought of his own flesh and blood trying to best him. Indeed, his blood was frozen at the thought of Odin's surprise when Loki became the Prince of Jotenheim. "You are clever, little prince." He nodded. "If I put two warriors at your command, will they be able to fetch my prize here?"

Loki thought deeply—or at least appeared to. "I would have to plan this carefully and it would not be easily done. They could die and bring back nothing."

"You could die now," Laughey offered pleasantly. "It might even win me favor in the eyes of Asgard that I did it and spared the Allfather the trouble later."

"You lie," Loki accused. "But it does not matter."

Laughey only laughed as Loki vanished.

The next days passed swiftly for Sigyn. It was not a secret she was with child and when she began to truly show, then her days were filled with joyful tidings and well wishes. Cora and Menda took time away from the sanctuaries and shelters to visit her, along with Memnet's midwife cousin. Frigga seemed be always at hand with some small task—planting flowers, arranging the nursery, sewing or some such.

Loki was as regular as a clock—coming to her at mealtimes, tea times, and for nap times. He brought her books—generally story books or books of baby things—and occasionally took her out for a ride on the water in the harbor or by leading an ancient mare he deemed well-tempered enough for her to handle. Once he brought her a puppy that bounced and yipped around, but in the end he took it back when it grabbed a book Sigyn had left on a table and began destroying it. As necessary, he brought her out to the court for a feast, but his mood was often sour and they often made excuses to leave early.

Yet when he was called to hear the complaints and petitions, he gladly brought her to his side. Together they would listen and make the judgments and address the concerns put before them. It was ironic that the time spent in audience felt like some of their closest times. Even when they disagreed, it was softly and lovingly done.

The week before Thor was to be crowned, Sigyn and Loki sat on a balcony, sipping a dark tea and eating small fruits and tidbits. Sigyn giggled as the cup in her hand almost balanced on the round of her stomach. "My darling—see? I have grown to the size of ...a horse!"

Loki shook his head. "Hardly. Horses are much bigger." He shrugged and set his cup down. "But on the plus side, your labor will soon be done and our son will soon be here. If you were a horse, you would be carrying him at least another month longer."

Sigyn huffed, feeling a kick rattle the cup in the saucer. "He will undoubtedly be the first child to split his mother open if he keeps this up."

Loki smiled sadly at that. "I had thought that the walking and such would help. If it doesn't, then we will stop."

"Nonsense," Sigyn sniffed. "I enjoy spending the time with you." She smiled sadly. "But Mother says that I will not see you scarcely at all before..."

"I will be attending meetings with the Allfather," Loki explained. "As Thor's brother and the next in line, it is expected that I should know how to handle the realms should anything happen. Not to mention that it is supposed to give us time to figure out what my role will be while Thor is here." He laughed bitterly. "Father has taken great pains to force Thor to carve out a niche for me."

Sigyn frowned. "Shouldn't that be to the good, though?"

Loki only shrugged. "I suppose. It is better than being cast out." He waved his hand and the dishes vanished. "But, I have only tonight to be with you before I am closeted with my brother for a week..."

Sigyn giggled and took his hand so that she could stand. The child was enormous inside her. Everyone who spoke with her said that he would be as big as Thor. Her back ached enormously as well, but she smiled for Loki's sake. It was a pity that fate had not reversed them and let Loki be the elder. He seemed level-headed and fair—although he brooked no disobedience and not the slightest rebellion. Thor still seemed brash and brazen and rather like a child given too large and fancy a toy. But, for all of his bluster, Thor was a likeable enough sort of fellow. He never failed to be generously polite and deferred to her in most everything. He would always carefully ask before he even came near to touching her hand—and would always make sure that there were witnesses whenever he stood near her. Time had eased her pain as little else could and they could even spend time without major mishaps or spell damage.

Loki was still speaking. "...And you will need to hold the audiences, my dear," he concluded.

"What?" Sigyn gaped and then flushed.

"We are occupied with this...ceremony. You are the one who is left to carry on," he explained. When he saw her uncertain frown, he smirked. She would undoubtedly carry on just fine, but her emotional dependence on him was soothing to his wounded ego and pride. Here, despite everything, was someone who really needed ___him._

He waved his hand. "Don't worry—you can always conclude early or send for Mother if you need to. If it is truly an emergency, then you may send for me."

"Will anyone else be there?" she whimpered.

"The Warriors Three are busy with preparations, but perhaps another of the ladies of the court could attend you?"

"Would Sif be willing?"

Loki frowned. Sif had become a silent bystander. Although she had spent more time in Sigyn's company since the princess had begun tending the soldiers, she still did not seem to overly like either of them. Still, she was loyal to Thor and, at least for the moment, had become polite and gracious. "I will see if Thor can spare her, but I would not press her if she cannot be there." He smiled. "But I have only hours before I must part—and I cannot fathom why we are not in our chambers..."

Thor was delighted to honor his sister-by-marriage and have Sif sit with her during the audiences. Sif was not particularly overjoyed, but where Thor led she followed and she consented.

So the week began. Odin lectured his sons for hours on protocol and politics and theory and strategy. He had new armor made for them both as well as providing them both rings of fine gold. He even managed to arrange for a brief hunting trip for all three of them so that they could be father and sons and brothers again. But his eye was weary and rimmed with red and his hands shook somewhat in weariness. Loki supposed that it was only a matter of time before the Odinsleep took him.

There were two days left and they all sat in the study together, looking at the collection of maps and books strewn everywhere. Odin smiled sadly at the cup of water in his hand and then looked at both of them. Thor straightened—it seemed that every time that the Allfather had moved, there was another lecture or bit of advice to be attended to. Loki looked at the great map in front of him and then up at the Allfather.

"I'm proud to call you both my sons," Odin said thoughtfully. "I cannot say how proud I am. On the one hand, I have you, Thor, who will defend Asgard and the Realm Eternal with might and valor. And on the other hand, I have you, Loki, who will ever guard against the enemies unseen and triumph in the bloodless battles of politics and intrigue." He considered his cup again and laughed without mirth. "By Bor's beard I wish that I could have found a way to divide the throne into portions so that you both would have a share."

Thor looked at Loki—blue eyes meeting cool emerald ones. With a heavy swallow he grinned in a lopsided fashion. "I would wish that we could ever remain brothers as well." He stared down, unable to meet the gaze of either his brother or his father. "I have been blessed—and to acknowledge my blessing I want to-"

A pounding echoed on the door and they heard Sif's hoarse voice screeching Loki's name. Thor's eyes went wide as he bounded to the door with Loki only a breath behind him. Thor wrenched open the door and saw Sif gasping for breath on the other side.

Sif nodded briefly at him, gasping for breath. She didn't even acknowledge Odin with more than a glance, if that much. "Loki—you must come to the audience chamber-"

"Are we under siege?" demanded Thor.

"___She_is," Sif stammered, unable to do more than grab Loki's arm. "You must come quickly."

Loki's eyes went wide and he grabbed Sif's elbow. "Take me to her," he growled softly. "Tell me all along the way."

Sif let out a wail. "It was—it got out of control." She ran along beside Loki, panting and puffing.

"What got out of control?!" demanded Odin as they all ran.

"The audiences," Sif panted. "They got out of control..."

Loki released her and vanished. Thor caught her and continued to hurry to the audience chamber. "What happened, Sif?"

"I...I had left to go train," she stammered. "It was only for an hour and Sigyn had things well in hand and then one of the guards came to fetch me. At first it was only a complaint—that Loki had bespelled someone some months ago. Sigyn had frowned and offered apologies but said that she could offer little recompense. It seemed to be resolved that she would take him to task. Then another came forward-"

"Sif, what happened?" Thor bellowed.

"When I got there, she was surrounded by people who all claimed that Loki had done them ill," Sif panted. "All of them demanded recompense and apologies..." Odin grunted angrily. "The guards had drawn close to her, but she was trying to maintain control and address them one at the time."

Thor's eyes widened at the thought and they ran faster. The crowds outside the audience room were milling around angrily and the clerk was shoved against the wall—his papers scattered and his quills broken underfoot. Angry shouts were still heard in the audience chamber and it was only Thor's and Odin's greater height that afforded them any view at all.

Sigyn sat still in the great throne on the dais. The sleeve of her dress seemed frayed or torn, but she seemed to be largely unharmed physically. Loki appeared and stood—by appearances in his battle armor and with his staff—behind her, listening. The guards were spread at the foot of the dais, unsettled and precariously close to drawing weapons. Sif gasped and reached for her weapon as another throng surged forward. Thor gestured angrily and tried to move around the crowd.

The two or three who were forward now glared at Loki. "He is the one who's spell cost me dearly. He should pay for his malice."

Sigyn's voice was shaky, but echoed nonetheless. "Can you prove that it was his spell and that it was done with malice?"

Another voice shouted. "Who else would it be?" Louder voices—male and female—agreed. "Who else is known as a God of Mischief?"

"_Silence!_" Odin called and suddenly all eyes turned towards him. The voices were silent and a thrum of fear or relief or both shot through the air. "This is not how we conduct ourselves in Asgard."

Thor nodded grimly. "I agree," he said firmly. "Let the lady have her say."

Sigyn took a shaky breath. "As to who else has magic-" She drew in a deep breath. "_I _do." She let a small fizzle of fear surge through her and fireworks erupted. She had grown better at the timing and firing of her magic—although it still eluded her how to call, say, lightning versus fire or ice. Thankfully, no one had been harmed as she had lingered in Loki's rooms, practicing. "I imagine that there are others as well." Her fingers tightened around the arm of the chair. "Who here has brought complaint to the king? Who here has not had justice done?"

There were angry grumbles but no one came forward until a scrawny fellow stepped out. "I did not bring my complaints because Loki was a prince." He frowned. "I...I didn't think a few chickens were worth it."

Loki shot a glare at the man, but it was Sigyn who spoke. "Has anyone here considered what good Loki has done?" The peasants gaped at her as the room went silent. "I have sworn fidelity and honor to Prince Loki—I will not break that vow. But while I hear of many vague complaints, I hear few praises and I hear even less concrete details. Was it not Loki that secured the wall around Asgard? Loki who...brought forth Sleipnir? Loki who first wove nets for fishing and trapping?"

"Loki almost destroyed Mjolnir!" a voice shouted.

"How? Who was there?" Sigyn fired back. "Why would Loki do such a thing when it is to his benefit—indeed, to all of our benefit for Mjolnir to be forged?"

The crowd's voices rumbled again angrily. "Everyone knows that he can shapeshift! And the bellows were stopped to get a fly out of the eye of-!"

"Oh?" Sigyn said. "And you are privy to knowing when he has or not? How do I know that you are not my _shape-shifted _lord if you have such intimate knowledge of his goings and comings?"

More rumbles. Thor glanced at Odin—along with half the crowd—and Odin only watched solemnly. Rumors and gossip had burst into a poisonous bubble that Loki's past behaviors had done little to soothe. Sigyn sighed deeply, sorrowfully.

Rising, she said softly and firmly. "I can hear your discontent. I can hear your anger and frustration. I understand that there can be confusion and ill-feelings when sorcery is involved." She tried to smile, but it failed into a grimace. The rumbles lowered and the grumbled silenced to strain to hear her words. "However, your complaints can be made open in our courts and before our king—" Her face grew solemn. "—___if you have evidence__._ Not the evidence of gossips and tale-tellers—but the fair and straightforward evidence that Asgard demands to have before besmirching a man or woman's name with accusations.

"I charge each of you to consider well what Loki has done for us. As you strive to lay blame at his door, also consider what credit should be there as well. How many times have his illusions saved lives in battle? How many times has a spell aided us?"

Sigyn straightened as small whispers and rumbles floated through the crowd. "And I said ___'spell'_. I have heard much of how Thor's strength has won battles. I have heard much of the wisdom of Odin and the courage of Asgard's warriors. These are things that I and every Asgardian are proud of. But there is a place for spell work—in healing, in divining outcomes, and yes, even in disguise or trickery.

"No amount of courage, wit, wisdom or strength—or even spells—will solve all ills. There still will remain problems to solve. Even if Loki did not walk here—" Loki straightened and looked warily at his wife. "—there would not be an end to biting flies, poor harvests, and run-away chickens. Nor would there be an end to faithless folk, to cowards in battle, to treachery against our neighbors or to shysters. There would not be an end to the problems with dark elves or frost giants."

There was a rumble in the gathered crowd again but a slow acceptance of her words seemed to echo. Thor stood warily ready opposite Loki in the room. Odin looked on solemnly, almost sadly. Sigyn stood in the middle of her guards, her shoulders drooping. "I wish that I could give you good folk of Asgard such a life—a life free from so many small ills and hurts. But I cannot. Nor, I suspect, can anyone. Do you come forward with a problem that I can help with, I will listen and try to help you. Otherwise, I will yield to the will of His Majesty."

All eyes turned in wide-eyed expectation to Odin. Odin cleared his throat importantly. "I find..." he said at last. "That Sigyn has spoken rightly. We cannot solve every small ill—there will always be trials and ___my son _is not the father of every one of them. If none can come forward with something to be rightly addressed, then I will declare audiences dismissed for the rest of the day and bid everyone to make ready for Thor's coronation."

The crowd seemed to shiver for a moment. For a breath, it seemed that everyone was watching to see what would happen. A small, nondescript man—who had blamed Loki for his milk turning sour because of the garlic growing wild in his pasture—left first with his face flaming. Then two more left. They were youths who had no particular complaint, but had wanted to watch the spectacle. The crowd broke at last, unable to face Thor and the Allfather.

Thor smiled ruefully at Sif and Sigyn as the last ones departed. Sif smiled at him warily as though it were a battle too easily won. His hand still tingled—ready to strike—but he was not ready to face Loki or his easy smirks and half-truths.

Odin simply pressed forward wearily like an old man yearning for the end of a long voyage. Going to Sigyn, he pressed his hand on her shoulder. "You have done well, child."

Sigyn took in a deep, shuddering breath and whispered. "Tell the guards to go." The guards looked alarmed and stared at the Allfather. "They have done no ill, but I should like to be alone right now."

They hastened out at Odin's nod and Thor came forward. "Are you well, Sigyn? You seem...distressed."

Sigyn let out a howl that echoed eerily in the room and fell to her knees with her fists knotted in her teeth. Whether born of despair or hopelessness, it was impossible to tell but it was swiftly followed by fiery white snakes of magic that hissed and popped like fresh wood on a hot fire. One snake wrapped around a column and scraped the marble with thin grooves while another slammed against a table and burnt it instantly to a crisp.

Sif fell back with a shout as one tendril drifted to her. She drew her sword and then stopped with a glance at Thor. Thor knelt—stock still—beside Sigyn. As she regained her senses, she saw that while Sigyn's magic destroyed the few furnishings in the room—mainly benches, chairs, the table and desk. It wrapped in wide circles around everyone there. Even the Allfather with his hand still on her shoulder was safe as though wrapped in a shield neither seen nor felt.

Sigyn screamed again and all of the tendrils joined and rose like dragons towards the ceiling. As one, they slammed against the floor again—at Loki's feet. By scarcely inches, they missed the toes of his boots—only scalding the leather with heat.

Sigyn panted heavily, sweat dripping from her brow as though she had run the entire length of the rainbow bridge and back. Licking the sweat from her lips, she simply wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking back and forth.

Odin stared at the damage around him, sniffing the smells of charred wood and rock. Thor glanced around warily as though he were almost afraid to move. Sif stood warily, dusting herself off. None of them would look at Loki—who stood just behind where the audience throne had stood—a great ring of ash around his foot.

"Is everyone all right?" Sif asked softly. Devoid now of furnishings and people, even a soft voice echoed in the room.

"We are all well, Sif," Thor answered softly. He stared at the intricate design of ash around Loki sadly.

Loki took a deep gulp of air and it almost singed his throat. The air felt choking and hot and full of things he did not dare admit to feeling. Whether he had been wrong or right—doing ill or doing fair—he had done nothing that he could recollect that deserved this defense of his pride and his abused sense of honor. And now he did not dare move closer for fear that he might break.

It was Odin who squeezed Sigyn's shoulder and gently took her hand to help her rise to her feet. Thor shrugged out of his cloak and wrapped it around her shivering form, swathing her in crimson that looked like fresh blood.

"Little sister," Thor said with a forced smile. "I am reminded to always mind my ways to be regarded well in your eyes."

"I have no eyes," Sigyn said bitterly as Thor blanched. She nodded thoughtfully. "I did not mean to destroy everything though."

"It can be replaced," Odin said softly.

"All of it was dreadfully old," Thor added, trying to sound lighthearted. "Splinters and cracks. It's why we dumped it here instead of some poor soul's room."

"That was a dreadful lie," Sigyn said softly, a ghost of a smile returning. "Every piece here was sturdy and most likely beautiful and in good repair." She sighed and shivered again. "I...am sorry. I lost my temper."

"Better the furniture than at the folk of Asgard," Odin remarked blandly. He smiled. "I remember losing my temper and striking a table in here once with Gungir." Thor's lips twitched and Loki simply stared at the Allfather. "It shattered and...here—" He drew Sigyn towards a column and pressed her fingers into a crevice in it. "A piece flew into this column and stayed there until it rotted out."

Sigyn let out a watery giggle. "Such silliness. It's a wonder you all aren't raving by now."

Odin glared at his younger son. "Loki, come forward. Sigyn needs us around her."

Loki stumbled forward, his steps lacking grace and his words frozen in his throat. Taking Sigyn's icy fingers in his own, he kissed the knuckles. They were covered with red marks like burns and her palms were scored over and over with little half moons. He stroked her palm silently.

Sigyn seemed to have choked bag a sob. "I tried to control it. At first it was one person—some silliness of how his ship drifted because you had unraveled the anchor rope when I know you were with me at a feast that night. I offered him another measure of rope. Then more came forward with a list of complaints.

"I ___tried__._ I tried to defend you. I tried to think of how it might have been to the greater good or anything to get them to stop. But they kept coming forward with complaints and called for you to be brought before the courts—"

Loki gaped. "Sif came and found us."

Sigyn nodded, though she could not have seen she was nodding to the empty room and that Sif stood warily behind her. "My thanks, Lady." She shivered again. "I called for the guards to come closer because one was drunk and complaining that you called his wife into infidelity." Loki opened his mouth to protest, but Sigyn held up her hand. "I don't care if you did or didn't as it happened some six years ago before we were even pledged." She sighed sadly. "I will not move against you. I will honor my vows.

"But I cannot say that I am able to stand beside you. Even if half of what was accused was true—I cannot..."

Thor blanched and pressed his hand on her shoulder. More than any, he knew what it took to make the excuses and to try to hide what Loki might have done. "My sister—we are all...overwrought and weary." Sigyn shot him a look, her scars flaming red across her pale face. Had she eyes, Thor imagined she would have looked lost. Hesitantly, Thor smiled at her. "I will lead you to your room and we will all allow you privacy and rest."

"Indeed," Odin agreed softly. "It will do us all good to consider what has happened today." He gestured towards his sons. "You are both dismissed as well—to think of what has been said and done. I have not seen such brave fidelity before and need, myself, to consider how best to reward it."

Loki took the Allfather's place beside Sigyn. "Come... I will lead you."

Yet, this time, Sigyn did not take his elbow or smile at his voice. Instead, she moved closer to the Allfather. "My king, I should like to thank the Lady Sif first. Had she not fetched you, I should have gone mad." She showed them her palms and the angry little moon marks on them. "I had nothing else and pressed my nails into my palms to prevent my magic from harming them."

Odin cast a meaningful look at Loki and then back at Sigyn. It did not escape his notice that she carefully did not choose Thor to lead her to her room, but not Loki either. With a heavy sigh, he led her to the other woman.

Sigyn's voice was raspy and hoarse. "My lady, I have you to thank for bringing me help when I was in dire need. I have neither sword nor shield to offer you, but only my friendship and heartfelt thanks. I will remember your aid this day and will repay it if I can."

Sif nodded solemnly. "I am honored, Your Highness." Thor beamed at her, his eyes twinkling in merry blue lights. She smiled shyly back flushing as he mouthed ___thank you _to her as well.

Sigyn noticed none of this and walked silently with the Allfather to the chambers she shared with Loki. Slowly, wearily, she plodded along, paying no mind to any they passed.

Odin stopped at the doorway. "My dear." He debated the words carefully. "I know that today has been...shocking to you. I can only guess at what you were told and the accusations you heard." He sighed. "Loki is difficult to understand. I am glad that he has you who is willing to look below the surface of tricks and mischief to see the good within."

Sigyn shuddered and almost moaned. "I cannot find it this day, Allfather. ___I cannot._" She shuddered again and feebly pressed a hand to her lower back. "And I ache all over now as though every word was a fist."

Odin nodded. "I will occupy Loki for a few hours to allow you privacy and send your maids to you that you may bathe and rest and-"

Whatever else the Allfather was going to say was lost as Sigyn crumpled beside him, holding her stomach. She groaned softly and panted as her stomach heaved. In a gasp, she said, "Please—take me inside."

Though old, Odin was strong and he hefted her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. Memnet came out from the bathing chamber—Loki had appeared briefly enough to grab a book and order a bath be drawn—and looked at her charge. Odin looked at her—his single eye glaring. "She needs-"

"Aye, I'll send for the midwife. My cousin knows Sigyn and will treat her well." Memnet interrupted as she came to the bedside. "My dear—I'm here. We'll get you into a comfortable nightgown and let you rest."

"The babe! He is early." Sigyn gasped painfully. The agony in the small of her back came again.

Memnet paled and forced out a chuckle. "Babies arrive when they wish. Besides-" she said reasonably as she pulled off a leather shoe. "-this one may simply wish for rest."

Odin paled and propped Sigyn up against the back of his shoulder. He kept his eye on the wall as she was undressed and then clothed in a loose, flowing gown. He had liked the soft fabric and the bright blue flowers on the pale pink fabric when Frigga had shown it to him. Carefully avoiding looking at Sigyn's exposed flesh, he provided her a handy prop and a strong grip so that she could get up and settle in the bed against some pillows. From somewhere a guard was summoned and dispatched to find Memnet's cousin. Another group of maids appeared and were sent to fetch water, blankets, swaddling and bandages, and other such stuff.

Quite without knowing how, Odin found himself outside the bedroom. First, the midwife had come in and begun gently coaxing Sigyn to speak of her symptoms and he had yielded his place on the side of the bed. An assistant had showed up with a basket of medicine and devices and he had stepped out of her way so that they could examine Sigyn. The midwife had instructed the assistant to light candles with relaxing aromas and to fetch a bowl with cool water and a cloth to wipe Sigyn's brow and he had stepped away again. Then, he had ended up backed up right by the door as another maid came in with a pile of towels. Stepping out of her way, he was suddenly outside. One of the maids smiled at him and gently closed the door.

So he found himself staring at the closed door when Thor came down the hallway. "Father," Thor said in confusion. "What are you doing out here? Is aught amiss?" He looked at the doorway and the faint shadows darting back and forth. "Sigyn?"

Odin laughed shortly. "That's the second time it has happened to me that a midwife has thrown me out of a bedroom."

Thor looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Should I fetch Loki?"

Odin shook his head. "If you would fetch us both chairs, I think we will wait here for a bit to see if there is any news." He clapped his eldest son on the shoulders. "I remember when you were born and how I dithered and generally was more anxious than Frigga..."

Thor brought out two chairs from his chambers and they sat in the hallway, waiting for news. Occasionally a maid would emerge only to duck back into the room or rush down a hallway without stopping. There were no scream or shouts, only bustling and rustling.

Finally, the midwife came out and approached them. "She has had a hard day of it. We have stalled the birth. It is too soon for him to be born and no mistake."

Thor looked at Odin and swallowed heavily before looking at the midwife. "Is she well? Can we see her?"

"She'll not receive visitors, young prince," the midwife said sternly, crossing her arms over her ample chest. "She is to rest and to recover. She said that today was hard and she sat a lot, so I will stay the night to see that the babe is well set and not likely to miscarry." She frowned. "If His Highness is around, I would tell him to go to some tavern and drink—heavily—until I send for him. I'll see that the babe stays put, but I'll not have someone else loitering around and making her fret."

Thor choked back a laugh. "I will fetch Loki and take him drinking."

Odin shook his head—merriment lighting his one eye. "Have a feast tonight—there are many here who are guests and who would like to feast to your coronation. It will occupy you both."

"That would be for the best," the midwife agreed smugly. "You can both drink and still be on hand should she take a turn for the worst and the babe come anyway."

Odin smiled. "I will then throw the feast myself—in honor of Sigyn." He gestured at Thor. "Go and gather our friends and set the kitchens to work and we will all feast tonight."

"We will send a platter up for the princess," Thor offered.

The midwife snorted. "Not with the rich foods you favor, Your Highness. She needs simple foods—cut fruits, cheeses, fresh bread and water. Nor wine or beer unless I send for it. A flagon of crisp, cool water with lemon slices in it would do well to quench her thirst along with a pot of hot water for tisanes." She appeared to think for a moment and then said. "No use raising a fuss—it would only upset the Princess, I think. So send up her dinner and I will see that she is tended tonight. In the morning, I will leave my assistant while I tend to a matter at home and then will return." She shot them both a rather quelling glare. "And no use worrying about whether or not she'll be up and about to attend any festivities. She won't, as I mean to keep her off her feet for some time. In fact, as long as I can." She turned briskly. "If you have any questions, you may write them down and slip them under the door and I will answer them as I can." She opened and shut the door firmly behind her.

Thor gaped and Odin only nodded with a smile. Odin clapped Thor on the shoulder again and picked up his chair to carry it back to Thor's apartments. "Son, I'd say we've been given our marching orders."

"But, Father, she's a..."

"Midwife."

"And we've been ___ordered _to—"

"Drink. And feast. And send a platter with simple foods along with both cool water and hot water."

"But—"

"Don't argue with her."

Thor laughed hugely. "I see. Well, I apparently have a feast to host." He laughed again and they took the chairs into his chambers. "I will see to Loki as best I can if you will see the feast set." He grimaced as he considered the events of the afternoon. "Father, did we just get ordered out of..._my brother's rooms?!"_

Odin chuckled at Thor's bemused expression. "And just wait until it is ___your _turn with your lady. If you thought we were reprimanded just now, wait until she is attending your wife. My ears stung like they had been boxed several times as I was lectured on how to treat Frigga in her childbearing."

Thor laughed again. "I see that I am to be outnumbered..." He smiled. "I suppose that we should tell Mother before she comes here and crosses that dragon's path."

Odin nodded. "I will tell her and she will be discreet."

Thor grimaced. "I will find Loki and tell him of the feasting and make Sigyn's excuses."

Odin stared for a moment at nothing in particular. "I suppose it will be for the best if he is told. I'd rather he not make Sigyn more upset, but he will-"

"Go raving mad if he finds out her distress and none of us told him," Thor finished grimly.

"Yes," Odin agreed sadly.

Thor left his sire and began searching through the palace. His friends were in one of the salons, playing chess and cards. Sif looked at him strangely as he asked if they knew where Loki was, and only shook her head before turning again to her board. Hogun watched silently, frowning and brooding. Volstagg's ears perked when Thor explained that there was to be a feast tonight and he smiled broadly, but then Fandral took one grim look at him and he seemed to falter.

"Is Sigyn all right?" Fandral asked suddenly.

Thor nodded. "She is resting in the care of the midwife. She has extended her excuses."

Sif looked at the carved ebony queen sitting on the chessboard. "I have told our friends of what happened during the audiences." She thumped the black king over and watched it bounce off the board. "We will not say more than you. Only that she is resting."

Thor smiled softly at Sif. "You have warmed to her, then?"

Sif frowned. "I have and I say she is too good for Loki." Sif glared at the black king as she kicked it with her foot. The piece spun on the slick floor and then cracked against a table leg with the head going one way and the rest going the other. "I know that he is your brother, but he does not deserve to have her honor him so. She is kind and generous and thoughtful—everything he is only able to pretend to be."

Fandral smiled sadly. "My lady Sif—it has been a hard day. I think that you could undoubtedly use a generous cup of wine and a turn on the dancing tiles to raise your spirits."

"And what of her?" Sif snapped angrily. "She lies abed because-" Her eyes screwed shut and she felt hoarse for a moment. "Because I did not stop the complaints when they first started." She shrugged and blinked rapidly shining eyes. "I had thought that there was no harm is letting one or two vent their spleen and show her the one she married. I had no idea that it would get so out of hand."

Thor came to her and wrapped his arms around her. "'Twas not your fault." He kissed the top of her head. "This was a storm set to break and nothing could have stopped it from coming sooner or later."

Fandral smiled sadly. "Will the lady need company? Perhaps a lively story or song to pass the time?"

Thor smiled at his friends. "Odin and I have been ordered—by the midwife, no less—to not darken the door until we are sent for." He forced a laugh. "A crown prince and king bow to the whims of a midwife." A smile half-cocked his lips. "We have been ordered to feast and drink and keep from brooding while we wait."

"Ah..so that is the reason for the hasty feast," Volstagg said with a smile. "I was told the same when my own came." He shrugged his massive shoulders eloquently. "But it is a good reason to feast..."

Hogun grunted in amusement. "You do not need a reason to feast."

Fandral smiled. "We will do as ordered then. We will feast and make merry and keep our friends from brooding." He leaned back in his chair with his arms wide. "Bring on the adoring maidens."

Sif let out a deep, gurgling laugh. "___You_do not need a reason to bring out the adoring maidens."

Thor chuckled. "I have good friends to feast with. As soon as I have found Loki, we can begin."

Thor found Loki at last in their weapons training room. Every target was smashed—though only a few sizzled with magic. Every rack and shelf had been upset as though a storm had raged inside—the weapons and supplies and books scattered to the floor. One practice hammer was split with magic.

Loki himself was sitting against a wall, a broken quarterstaff in his hands. He had either not had on his armor and only the illusion when in the audience chamber or had doffed it some time ago as his green shirt was soaked with sweat. His eyes were ruddy and swollen and his hands were blistered and raw. His boots were scratched at the ankles where the spinning targets had struck low. There was a small rip along one narrow leg and several other bruises.

Thor swallowed and came over gingerly. He could not name what had beset Loki—Loki who never seemed to grieve or sorrow. He silently appraised the damage and looked again at his brother. With a sigh, he offered his hand.

Loki swatted it away and stared at one of the carved target's "heads" as it lay shattered on the floor propping a chin on a bent knee. As Thor only stood there, looking at the damage, he sighed and leaned back again and rolled his eyes up at his older brother. "I suppose that you are here to take me to task?"

"No," Thor rumbled. "I am here to take you to a feast."

Loki's eyes rolled again. "In honor of your coronation? I think that I'd rather not."

"Father will insist—" Thor began.

"Tell him I'm ill. Tell him that I've turned into a bird and migrated. Tell him that I've business elsewhere. Tell him I've turned into a salmon or sea bass and swum away." Loki shrugged. "Tell him anything you like."

"Father will insist," Thor repeated. "Because the feast is to honor Sigyn." Loki glared up at him, as though daring him to say that he made a jest. "To honor her example of fidelity and loyalty."

"She'll be fine without me," Loki grumbled, tossing the staff onto the pile of rubbish.

Thor sighed heavily. Of all the duties that would fall to him, this had to be the one he shouldered most reluctantly. "Sigyn...cannot attend—"

That roused Loki's interest. Loki sprang to his feet and blasted Thor with a spray of magical flames. Thor fell back, wishing he had his cloak still. Loki's hands flamed with his fury and his face became a mask of rage. "___Why_can Sigyn not attend?"

Thor coughed a bit at the smoky smell. "She is resting—" Loki raised his hands and the flames joined into a ball of acidic green fire. "Brother—she is truly resting under the care of the midwife."

The fire puffed out like an unguarded candle flame in a wind. Loki's red-rimmed eyes went wide. "What?! When? How?" he gaped. His face went white and his eyes were wide as though he had a fright. He grabbed Thor's armor and pulled him close. "What happened?"

Thor chuckled a little. "She is resting in the care of the midwife. She felt ill after the audiences and Father took her to your chambers. The midwife ordered us to take you drinking so that none of us—including you—would brood and make her fretful." He smiled in bemusement, although Loki did not return the smile. "Father proposed the feast in her honor and sent me to fetch you." He clapped Loki on the back, causing the slighter man to jerk. "You have found a rare and wonderful woman, I think."

Loki's lips pressed out a thin smile. "I guess that I am attending a feast then." He pressed his hands together. "However, I will not leave Sigyn unguarded in her...confinement. There must be two guards at her door and under the balcony at all times, as well as at each end of the hallway."

Thor's brow knitted in concern. "Brother—we are well defended in the palace. Our allies surround us. Do you suspect an attack?" He smiled again. "It would be madness for anyone to attack when we and all our allies have gathered together."

Loki only glared. "I will post the guards myself."

Thor shook his head. No wonder the midwife advised heavy drinking if this is how new fathers were prone to reacting. "No, brother. You will get cleaned up. Fandral will loan you clothes if you need them and I will loan you armor if you wish. You will attend the feast to accept Sigyn's honors and I will post guards as you have said."

Loki looked at Thor speculatively, as though judging the truth of his words. "We will go together. It will harm none if I get fresh clothing."

Thor's lips twitched in merriment. "I would not advise it. The midwife would only be enraged and send you out as she did Father and me."

Loki looked at him as though he were mad. "_What did you say?_"

Thor's voice dripped with amusement. "We were ___ordered _out. We were told that she would send for us if the babe came or if Sigyn was—in her opinion, my brother—judged fit for company."

Loki turned even more pale—if that were possible. "The child is coming? He is too soon!"

"As we all thought," Thor nodded. "But they have stopped the birth for now and she is resting." Loki almost seemed to twitch nervously and Thor could not help but tease him. "Brother—I love you dearly, but I am glad that I will not take a wife and have that particular dragon breathing fire at me."

Loki staggered out of the room, deaf and dumb to Thor's comments. They assigned a rotation of 8 guards to watch that no one intruded on Sigyn. Loki felt his mouth go dry and a lump in his throat as he watched the guards assume their positions. Thor would allow them shifts of four hours in this area and then allow them to be relieved and go into the main halls so that they could all see a portion of the festivities. As Thor spoke with one of the guards, he cast quickly and vanished before teleporting inside his apartment bedroom.

Inside the bedroom, Sigyn rested on the immense bed in one of the new night gowns that Frigga had bought her recently. The midwife sat by the hearth, knitting or sewing or some such. Her assistant wound a skein of thread into a ball and together they kept watch on a host of devices that monitored Sigyn and the baby. Candles with soothing aromas—chamomile, lavender, cardamom, and sandalwood—clustered on the mantle and on the bedside table. He pinched his nose to avoid sneezing. A kettle rested near the fireplace, along with a cup of what appeared to be tea or steeped herbs. A platter could be seen on the desk with simply prepared foods. A half-empty carafe of cool water stood on the bedside table with a tall, sweaty glass and a bowl of lemons and oranges beside it.

Sigyn muttered softly and reached out to the empty space beside her. Loki almost went to her, but was pushed aside by the midwife as she bustled and drew up a quilt over his wife. "There, there, dear," she said softly and brushed the tendrils back from Sigyn's face. "Do not fret."

Sigyn's breath shuddered out and the monitors shuddered with her. "I dreamed that Loki was here," she whimpered. "That he wanted to hold my hand and speak to me."

"Ah," the midwife nodded. "A good dream, to be dreaming of the child's father." She patted Sigyn's hand gently. "Have you decided on a name?"

"We were torn between Narvi and Vali," Sigyn said softly.

"Both are good, strong names," the midwife nodded. "But what if the child is a girl?"

Sigyn giggled softly. "I do not think my lord would countenance such rebellion." She then turned and said softly. "I hope that he..." Her voice cracked and she let out a little cry.

The midwife tutted. "I've made you cry, child." She took Sigyn's hand. "But we will speak of pleasant things so that your child—boy _or _girl—will have pleasant voices and tones to carry through the next days."

Sigyn tugged up the blanket. "I am so cold—am I supposed to be so cold?"

The midwife smiled. "I have yet to know of a standard way a mother is supposed to be." She waved to the assistant who went to fetch another quilt. "It would make my job easier if there was only one way. My assistant has gone to get another quilt and we will sing together."

"Sing?" Sigyn asked.

"Indeed—it will relax you and soothe the infant." The midwife shrugged. "It is hardly his fault that he so eager to see you that he is early." Sigyn jumped a bit and shifted restlessly in the bed. "And I see from that kick he agrees."

There was a clanking from the doorway and the midwife rolled her eyes. "I'll see what that's about. Won't be a moment, my dear and we'll pick out songs to sing."

The midwife burst open the door and all but snarled at the guards. "Now what's this clanking and banging around? I have ordered quiet for my lady to rest and you two cads-"

"Prince Thor's orders, ma'am. We are to spend 4 hours at our posts and then rotate so that there are always fresh eyes guarding the princess."

"Well leave off the clanking and banging around. A body can't rest with such a racket. Now, be quiet or I'll summon the entire court to take you off where you can clank and leave us in peace. And as they are at a feast to honor the lady, I'll just ___dare _you to make me summon them!"

Loki smirked at the midwife as she continued to berate the hapless guard. He conjured a flower and laid it on the bed. Did Sigyn move but a little, she would feel the stem. Would she pull it close or fling it from her, though? He almost hoped she would fling it to the ground. It would be a release from the fire in his throat and chest to have her do that small thing against him. He deserved it. He deserved all of it. Every screaming chant, every curse, every cry and shout and accusation—he deserved it all.

The midwife came back, muttering dire threats under her breath. With a sigh, she smiled again at Sigyn and tucked her in with the new quilt the assistant brought.

"When will Loki be back?" Sigyn asked after a moment.

The midwife blushed. "I believe that he is attending the feast as we speak. I have told them to go off and get drunk and not stand around fretting and fuming. There's naught here that they could do at any rate."

"Will he come back to me tonight?"

Loki's teeth gritted. He wasn't sure what the answer would be—wasn't sure what it ___should _be. He willed her to feel the flower—to take it close or to dash it away.

The midwife smiled. "Lass, there's few things that warm my heart more than a wife in love with her husband. If you are well and the baby is settled, then I will send for him in the morning."

"But if not?" Sigyn's face fell.

The midwife perched on the bed. "Then as soon as you are settled in your labor, I will send for him." She snorted. "No use having him pace around and snarl at us all when its just us resting and waiting, now is there?"

"He's not an animal," Sigyn protested weakly.

The midwife's assistant snorted and the midwife raised her hand silently to the wench, but even she seemed to choke on the words. "My lady—of course he isn't. However, watching someone else rest would surely try anyone's patience?"

Sigyn nodded uncertainly, letting out a soft gasp as the child kicked. "We will rest, I think. For a while..."

"Would you like another sip of tea or water?" the midwife offered softly. "Valerian and chamomile and mint to aid you?"

Sigyn smiled and yawned widely and settled again for sleep. "I will rest well enough, I think."

The midwife let out a gruff smile. "Dream of your love, then. Dream of holding your precious babe and the smile on your face when he is in your arms."

Loki teleported out of the room again and invisibly into the halls. The guards stood at the door and another pair at each end of the hallway. Yet another pair slid past in tandem on apparently a patrol.

The guard on the left of the door sighed. "It will be a long night."

The second guard nodded. "My first took nearly two days to be born and I do not believe that the princess has had her labor pains yet." He blew out a deep sigh. "I hope that she is as strong as they say."

The first nodded in return. "My Kristin was confined for a month after the last child because of the bleeding."

"At least this midwife is sure and confident. It seemed to me that when my wife bore her second the midwife dithered about more than I did." His shoulders shook lightly. "I had to take the woman in hand and almost ended up tending my wife myself."

The first one paused for a moment. "Did you hear about the audiences this morning?"

The second turned to him quickly. "Hush about that! If you're smart, you heard nothing either." He glanced around, totally missing Loki as he stood before him, before whispering softly, "I heard that she collapsed after the audiences."

"Me, too. I heard that it was the Allfather that brought her to her chamber and summoned the midwife."

The second guard made a tsk sound with his tongue. "I would wager that Loki will pay dearly for that one."

"Me too. I would wager that the Allfather will-"

Loki allowed himself to appear suddenly, wrapped in the illusion of full regalia. "Will do what?" he asked softly with a sinister smile.

"Nothing, Your Highness," they both barked, suddenly standing straighter.

Thor came around the corner. "Loki! I see you are ready for the feast." He clapped his brother on the shoulder and turned him around. "Let us go. I'm told that the sweet tonight is honey cakes dipped in dark chocolate—your favorite."

Loki stiffly followed Thor, casually dropping spells behind him. If he had even thought that today would be the day that Sigyn delivered his child, he would not have indulged in his tantrum in the training room and wasted his magic. As it was, he allowed himself to drop divining spells so that he could simply gaze into a mirror or a filled cup and see what was happening in the hallways. The drain on his reserves of magical power were staggering, but he would not trust anyone else.

Odin had rounded up quite a gathering by the time the princes made it into the room for their grand entrance. Everyone was balancing a plate and goblet in their hands and relishing the grand feast—suckling pigs with baked apples, mead soaked hens, a side of auroch roasted with pepper sauce, and too many other dishes to name. Thor was quickly swept up into a crowd of well-wishers and friends and Loki stood to the side, debating what really looked appealing enough to cross the room and fetch it. Truthfully, none of it did. None of it looked tasty and appealing enough to dare the stares and snickers he was sure would follow him.

A maid passed with a sweating flagon, filling cups. With an air of nonchalance that belied her hasty approach, she filled his cup and hurried away. Loki's eyes followed the flagon, watching it sweat little drops of water that dropped to the floor only to be crushed under someone's boot.

Frowning, Loki took his normal place at the high table, greeting his parents with little more than a nod. He missed or ignored the knowing look that Odin gave Frigga and simply sat, staring at his cup and sipping from it whenever anyone seemed about to approach him. He didn't even notice the maid as she circled round to fill his cup again with the rich, red wine that Odin and Thor favored serving at their feasts. Another maid timidly brought a plate, but he pushed it away and kept staring into his cup and drinking.

Odin signaled for a wine to be brought again and spoke softly to Loki. "My son—is all well?"

Loki shrugged and took a hearty gulp of the wine. The taste was not so bitter now that he was sure now that he did ___not _taste salty tears in the brew.

Frigga leaned over to him. "Her midwife is the best that I know of. She will be well cared for." She smiled gently. "Why not enjoy some of the feast?"

Loki looked up at his parents coldly. "While I am feted and fed like a pig to be roasted." He took another drink. "I'm told that I am to get drunk, so I am about the task."

Odin grimaced and Frigga glanced at him with a slight nod. The midwife had marked Loki well. He would have brooded and started every time the poor chick gasped. With a hopeful smile, Odin nodded the maid forward again to refill the cups.

The entire evening was raucous and noisy and filled with boasting and laughter. Thor was in his element, extolling his own valor and prowess as others did the same. Odin walked among the chancellors, ambassadors and such to greet friends and to speak with them. Frigga alternated between sitting patiently at the high table and wandering around to speak with the ladies of the court.

Loki drank—deeply and as often as he could manage to flag a servant to refill his cup. It didn't matter if it was the smooth red wine his father favored or the sweet cherry cordial his mother liked or the honey colored mead Thor liked. It all tasted like bitter, dirty water. There was no pleasant fizzle in his blood or warm fuzzing of his thoughts, not the slightest breath of pleasant, liquid forgetfulness.

In between swallows, he cursed—vehemently and without stinting himself, his past, the people of Asgard, Odin, Thor, Sif, Frigga or whatever maggot twisted the thoughts of the Norns as they wove his fate. If he hadn't left Sigyn to the audiences, none of this would have happened. If Sif had been doing her job—namely, guarding Sigyn—then it would not have happened. If Odin hadn't seized the chance to huddle together with both of his sons before yielding the throne, then none of this would have happened.

He slammed down the cup again and a serving boy breathlessly whizzed past, filled it and kept going. He looked into the still wine and saw Sigyn, resting comfortably as the midwife and her assistant frowned at their machines and devices. He grew more uncomfortable in that the machines looked as foreign to his eyes and his spell components and devices probably looked to their eyes.

That was followed by an uncomfortable thought—a truly foreign thought to him—that the items, herbs and spell craft he was so deft with would be foreign and terrifying to another. Of course, that was what had attracted him to spell craft in the first place—the pleasant sting of Thor not knowing which end of a wand was which. Had Sigyn eyes to see, would she regard his spell craft with mistrust and ill-will?

It was a small mercy that sleeping Sigyn held tightly to the stem he had placed on her bed. It was a small, random and probably pointless gesture—a flower that could have come from anywhere. She reached again to his place in the bed and again withdrew as she met cool sheets. She appeared to utter some small cry in her sleep—silent in his vision—and the midwife came to her and held her hand.

Loki cast an eye upward to the feast. Odin was boasting and preening as people admired Thor. Frigga was listening to some mavens gossiping about something or other. Thor was being admired and fawned over while Sif stood by and smiled. The Warriors Three drank and flirted and feasted as they each wished.

Loki drained the cup in three swallows and stood. There was a sudden rush to his head and his eyes clouded for a moment. He stared at the plate of cold viands and shuddered as he shook his head to clear it.

"Loki!" Odin said in his usual, over loud tones. "Come—we feast to honor Sigyn. Come and share a cup with us." He came over and led Loki to the group and pressed a cup in his hand.

One of the group—an rather aged looking man with massively ruddy cheeks and nose—tittered. "We have heard about Sigyn-"

"Have you?" he asked almost blandly.

"Indeed—we have been hearing how devoted she is," the man chuckled.

Frigga butted in. "I have spoken to them about how loyal Sigyn has been to you, Loki," she explained unnecessarily. He only raised an eyebrow. "We have all been favorably impressed..."

"Where is this paragon now?" another man chirped with a hiccup and a lewd look.

"She rests and recovers so that her babe will be strong," Frigga replied sharply.

"A baby?" the first smiled. "There's something to drink to!" He raised his glass. "A toast to the Princess Sigyn and the child!"

Loki toasted reluctantly. All of a sudden, the entire hall seemed filled with stinking, hypocritical geezers and crones. Not a one of them could have been bothered to greet him as he sat there, and now suddenly as one sodden wit heard it from another, toasts were being raised to her health and the child's health all across the hall.

Of course, the round of toasts quickly degenerated into a drinking game.

As Thor guzzled from his huge drinking horn and Volstagg beat the table in time with his swallows, others began cheering. Despairing and in a foul temper, Loki took a bottle—it really didn't matter which one—from a serving table and disappeared down a back hallway. His head swam unpleasantly and his tongue felt...furry. Still there was no rest in his mind—he still felt the anxious, churning in his stomach and the burning fury of his anger as he recounted the day. He had had enough of the feasting, and was ready to seek a place to rest.

The midwife glowered at him from the tiny crack that she opened the door when he knocked. With a snort and a sniff to have done any huffy lady at court proud, she ordered him, "Find another place to rest tonight, Your Highness. Your lady is resting here."

Loki rolled his bloodshot eyes. "I have spent this evening drinking, per your orders, and now I seek only to rest."

"Loki?" Sigyn called through gritted teeth, her voice faint from the bedroom across the sitting area. "Is that you?"

The assistant wailed softly and ran from the front sitting room to the bedroom. "My lady—do not strain!"

The midwife cursed softly and followed the assistant in without thought to the frowning prince at the door. Loki's apartment was similar to the one Sigyn had been given—a sitting room in the front with a bedchamber beyond and an immense closet and then a bathing area beyond that. Unlike Sigyn's smaller space, he had an extra bedroom and closet branching off so that his lady and he could each have a space. He had allowed her to get to know the space, but they had slept in each others arms and, truthfully, the other bedroom was ___furnished _but not ___finished,_as his mother liked to say.

The sitting area had been dusted, but not much else, and Loki sat down his bottle on the coffee table and draped himself in a chair by the fireplace. For a time, it seemed like a good idea to simply sit and wait, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him.

The invisibility spell was difficult. The heady wine and mead and cordial unexpectedly sang in his blood and his mind was sleepy and slow. Usually, he could dash out the words quickly and vanish as fast as a blink. Now, it took him three tries and he still wobbled on the last bit. But, he was hidden from view as he followed inside.

Sigyn's face was flushed and she sweated as she bit her bottom lip. The midwife and assistant buzzed around her. "Where is..." she gasped and then groaned. "Loki?"

The midwife looked set to offer some pithy remark and then looked at the readings on the tablet she had with her. The Asgardian device showed readings that were highly unusual and she frowned. Truthfully, she had never seen such readings before. She licked her sweaty lip and swallowed heavily. Tugging on her assistant, she whispered, "Find the Prince-"

"Prince Loki?" the assistant asked.

The midwife stroked Sigyn's stomach and nodded. "While you're about it, tell the King as Queen as well." She tried unsuccessfully to smile at Sigyn as the assistant rushed off. "My dear—you are straining too hard. The child is large and will not come easily—save your strength."

Sigyn moaned. "Please...is the child well?"

The midwife gazed at the lines and readings on her chart. "He seems to be..." She frowned. "But he..."

Sigyn groaned again. "He is pushing too hard!" Her stomach flexed strangely.

Loki felt the adrenaline burn through the alcoholic haze. "My dear," he said softly, pushing past the midwife as he became visible. He knelt on the bed. Sigyn reached for him and he took her in his arms.

The midwife frowned as he arranged her on the pillows and soothed her—talking nonsense of flowers and gardens and dragons and such. And purple feathers—whatever _that _was. But Sigyn gradually relaxed and the crisis seemed to be passing—the child settling in for another bout of rest.

She tutted and glowered at her instruments and went to her baggage to prepare a drink for Sigyn. Loki kept on smiling at her, joking and laughing about everything and nothing and for the time being, it seemed the princess was able to rest. But the child was already enormous and much too early. Even allowing for an extra month before Sigyn estimated her conception, it was still early and she had no idea how Sigyn would manage.

She came over and smiled at Sigyn. "Now my dear—drink some of your water. You will need to keep sipping and I will advise resting for a bit. I'll summon the maids in an hour or so and they will be able to change your bed and help you put on something fresh to wear, if you like."

Loki frowned and cuddled Sigyn close as she drifted to sleep. "Is _that _the best that you can manage to do?" he hissed over his love's sleeping head.

Instead of quailing and whimpering before him, the midwife crossed her arms over her chest again and frowned mightily at him in return. "Your Highness—I have been birthing babes since my youth. I have attended the healer's school for twelve years before that—when my mam was attending your mother as your brother was born." She glowered again. "The child is large and the mother is slender. It is only natural that the birth will be long and slow as they both adjust and she labors."

Loki gestured impatiently. "And what is your point?"

"My point is that she will likely have a long labor. The child is coming too soon because he is so large. She simply is running out of room to hold him within." Her frown deepened. "I attempt to forestall the birth so that there is the best chance of survival."

Loki swallowed deeply, feeling his eyes sting with tears. "Will I lose them both?"

"There is no telling," the midwife said gruffly. "And I do not say these words lightly to a young father. I have lost children before and mothers who were weak or ill." She sighed and began fiddling with her things. "It is a part of birthing, I suppose." She paused, gathering her breath and then looked at him solemnly. "Your princess is strong in her heart. She thinks of you and speaks of you often. She wants her child and that is the best gift. I've attended mothers who did not and their child suffered greatly in their wombs because of it. I've attended mothers who wanted their children more than anything and their spirit was so strong that they made it through when all seemed lost.

"Her Highness truly wants her child. She wants this child more than anything else. The child, though large, is nestled still and nourished in her womb. When all of my skills are spent, the mother's spirit often turns the tide and brings new life into the world."

Loki only nodded and brushed Sigyn's hair from her face. His tears sparkled in her brown tresses like diamonds. He kissed her brow.

"That will be the door," the midwife said softly. "I will close the bedroom door so that they do not disturb you and will greet them myself."

Frigga paced in the sitting area as Odin waited patiently. The assistant had let them in—not nearly so dour and formidable as the midwife herself, and then had vanished to find Prince Thor. Odin frowned as Frigga kept pacing, but said nothing.

The midwife came out slowly, her eyes downcast and her face troubled. "Your Majesties," she greeted carefully.

"We received your summons," Frigga said. "Is the child born? Is Sigyn well?"

The midwife looked at Frigga in her glistening raiment. "Princess Sigyn is well for now and is resting with Prince Loki."

Frigga took a deep breath of relief but Odin's eye narrowed on the midwife. "The child is well?" he asked in a low voice.

The midwife shrugged. "The child is early. I can only forestall the birth a little to give him time to grow." She fidgeted restlessly. "But I would hazard that he will be born within the next few days."

Thor's voice boomed from the hall doorway. "Then we will have to postpone the ceremony," he smiled.

The midwife smiled at Odin's eldest son. "Your Highness," she greeted. "I cannot say how long this may go on. It may be days or weeks before the child is born. Or hours."

"The ceremony will go as planned," Odin decreed stiffly without looking at Thor behind him. "But we must support Sigyn as well."

"Loki said as much," Thor pointed out. "He has ordered guards under her balcony, at the doorway and at each end of the hallway." He shrugged in his armor. "I have ordered others to patrol this area."

"The Princess Sigyn rests," the midwife offered. "But as the child seems set to wait a spell, then I cannot find any reason that I cannot go and see if His Highness would like company for this long wait."

"May it be a long wait," Odin nodded. He cast a strange look at Frigga, who grimaced. "Very well. Let us see if Loki desires company."

Loki held on to Sigyn, ignoring the voices in the other room. The midwife had begun explaining again to his family that Sigyn's child was so large. Mother was pacing—her light shoes tapping on the floor. Odin was probably looming somewhere and apparently Thor had come around to see the commotion. He patted Sigyn's belly again, crooning soft songs to them all. She slept in his arms, soothed like a child. With reluctance, he eased out of her arms and slipped into the sitting room.

"Loki!" Odin greeted. "We have come at the summons of the midwife."

"Sigyn is well," he nodded. "Her child is so large he seems a giant within her." He cocked a smile he did not feel. "And it seems that he is impatient to be in this world."

Frigga wrung her hands as she considered what would be best to do. "Is there anything at all we can do?"

"Have you decided on a name, Brother?" Thor asked with a smile and only a slight slur. "It does not seem fit to call my nephew by other than his name." He paused and then added as an afterthought, "Or her name, be she a girl."

"Narvi," Loki said swiftly. "Narvi is his name."

Frigga nodded. "And what if it is a girl?"

"_He _isn't," Loki bit out. "He's far too big."

Odin forced out a chuckle. "That's the way of it." He considered Gungir, still tight in his hand. "Perhaps we should walk together, Loki. It will aid in clearing your head for it looks to be a long night."

Loki glowered impatiently. "I do not feel ill at all. Perhaps it can wait..."

Odin chuckled knowingly. "I'll let that go for now considering how much you drank at the feast-"

"A full skin, Brother," Thor chuckled as well. Loki blinked at him in confusion. "You drank a full skin of wine without stopping. It's a wonder that you are still standing."

"Sigyn does wonderful things for me," Loki nodded, still unable to find even his usual mask of gaiety and snarky cheer. He cast an eye up and down his brother. "However, you look the worse for the wear..."

"Aye," Thor nodded unsteadily. "I matched you cup for cup, I think, and have not yet recovered."

"Go to bed, dear," Frigga smiled. "You have a full slate tomorrow and must be hale and hearty for the coronation."

Odin nodded at Thor. "I will expect to see you in my study at the normal time." He cocked a smile that somehow seemed to echo Loki's usual countenance. "Unless Narvi pays us a visit first." He turned to Loki. "You may be excused as long as the midwife will allow you stay here, but I will expect you to represent you both at the coronation."

Thor smiled, beaming at the room in general. He enjoyed the thought of a nephew that he could teach to fight and carry on his broad shoulders. Of course, Odin would be in the thick of things, wanting to carry the lad off on adventures and hunts as long as Sleipnir could put one hoof in front of the other seven. The day after tomorrow, his first proclamation would be to name Narvi as his successor to the throne. Granted, as they had both split a skin of the potent honey mead, the idea had been a spur-of-the-moment inspiration, but he had warmed to it. With Narvi as the heir, he would not have to worry about being tied to some lady and her sighs and crochets. Loki would be a protective and attentive father and watch over the throne and Asgard even more carefully with his son. He sketched a bow that almost landed him on his nose. "Until the morrow's light," he said to his father.

Loki sat down heavily in one of the stuffed chairs, suddenly feeling his head start to pound and wobble on his shoulders. With a heavy sigh, he stretched out his legs and rolled his head back around. Had they been back on the island, Sigyn would have rubbed his shoulders and neck and eased the ache, but she was asleep. For a moment, he didn't even recollect where or how to summon a servant to find the masseuse. His head cocked backward against the back of his chair and he closed his eyes wearily—not even aware of his snores.

Frigga and Odin looked at each other as their son's eyes closed and he seemed to drift to sleep. Odin touched Frigga's hand and smiled sadly. With a steady gaze, he looked at the midwife and whispered, "I should like to see Sigyn for myself."

The midwife frowned again and was set to deliver a lecture—who did these people think they were, after all?-and she never saw Gungir rise and fall briefly or note that she was paralyzed and frozen in time.

Frigga chuckled softly. "Was that ___really _necessary?"

Odin waved Gungir again and Loki was similarly frozen as he lay there. "___That_was probably unnecessary given how much he drank," he clarified with a smirk. "But I cannot afford to have Loki awaken in this."

Walking through to the bedchamber, Odin froze the assistant without a moment's compunction and went to Sigyn's side. Loki had bespelled her to sleep, but it was simplicity itself to extend the spell so that she would not rouse as he visited. Whispering softly, he conjured his own lifestone—an ornate thing covered with runes—and made his own judgments.

Frigga tiptoed in behind him. "And?"

"The child is half-Jotun," Odin murmured. "He is coming early because of his size and because his mother is simply too hot-blooded to nourish him further."

"Then do what must be done," Frigga whispered.

Odin felt the beads of sweat on his forehead as he began murmuring and summoning the Odinforce. Ever so delicately, he began the tedious process of changing the child to Aesir. Frigga wiped the sweat from Sigyn's brow and tucked quilts around her chest and arms when she shivered.

Suddenly, Odin reared back with a cry. His hands seemed to smoke briefly and he looked at Frigga with a pained expression. "He _is _his father's son," he chuckled without mirth. Frigga raised an eyebrow. "Little Narvi has magic of his own and has refused the transformation," Odin explained softly.

Frigga cursed quietly. "What do we do now?"

Odin nodded. "He will appear Aesir, but that is all. He will be tall and strong—perhaps stronger than Thor. From Loki he has inherited an affinity of the arcane." Frigga stroked sleeping Sigyn's brow. "This will have to do. He may not survive the birth-"

"Will Sigyn?" Frigga hissed. "What will Loki do if either of them are harmed?"

"He will live with it," Odin frowned. "Just as I live with Fin's death." He thoughtfully considered his daughter-by-marriage. "Would it be a mercy to-?"

"Don't say it," Frigga ordered. "Don't even ___think _it." She took one of his hands. "Let the birth happen. Narvi may die or may live. Sigyn may die or live. It is a risk all women must take to bring new life."

Odin seemed to shake himself awake. "I will not do more. Let the morrow come."

Frigga smiled. "It is late. You will need to see to Thor tomorrow without the benefit of Loki and his nonsense to lighten the mood."

"When the throne is Thor's," Odin smiled. "Then I shall take you to the cabin in the mountains..."

"Promises, promises," she laughed with a saucy wink.

In the next moment, Odin and Frigga were back at their spots in the sitting chamber. With a wave of Gungir, all returned as they were. The assistant stared at her devices. Sigyn slept and Loki blearily lolled in his chair. The midwife frowned at them, lost in her train of thought for a moment. It would seem to all that they simply had let time get away from them.

Without looking at the midwife, Odin said, "I believe that you are right. We will retire and gird our loins for the morning."

The midwife gaped for a moment as the king and queen swept out without another word. Loki snored softly from his chair and she covered him with a quilt as she tried to collect her thoughts. The assistant called her to examine a reading and to note that the graphs seemed to level out unexpectedly. The midwife untangled Sigyn from the blankets that were bunched around her chest and arms and she only shrugged—it happened that way sometimes.

Loki slept unexpectedly peacefully through the night watches and well into the morning. When he awoke, his throat was parched and his head ached slightly, but otherwise he was hale and hearty. Except, this overstuffed chair...___this is where he had passed the night?_He swallowed heavily and swept the quilt aside and strode in to grab some clothes and visit Sigyn.

Sigyn was awake. Blessedly his spell had worn off—otherwise she would still be asleep or worse since he had very, ___very _little recollection of casting the thing. She frowned at the midwife, her cheeks rosy and flushed and her tiny fists balled up. "I feel perfectly well and my son is perfectly well. I told you that we were doing much better and _you said _that I could walk if I was up to it!"

"My lady," the midwife sniffed. "You leveled out late last night—well after the King and Queen had come. I do not believe that it will do you well to be exerting yourself unless you wish your child to come right now."

Loki chuckled softly. "Perhaps we should listen, my dove."

"Loki?" Sigyn gaped for a moment. She recovered and then looked confused again. "You are ___agreeing _with her?"

Loki laughed outright. She could probably count on one hand the number of times he had agreed with _anything_. "Narvi rests within you," he chuckled. "At least let the boy finish his nap."

Sigyn pouted. "I-I-I've got a thousand things to do! I can't be lying around all the day long like a sick dog. There's the cellar work, the new shelter on the eastern side of town, the-" She carefully did not mention the coronation.

"And none of it is as important as you," Loki said softly, dropping a kiss on her forehead. His balance deserted him for a swimming moment, but then righted itself. He grimaced as he forced himself to stand again.

Sigyn sniffed the air and frowned. "Loki—have you...been drinking?"

Loki sniffed and noticed the air of feasting that still lingered around him. He chuckled, in unexpected good humor. "Allow me to bathe, my dove, and I will return with breakfast and a good book or two."

"Aye," the midwife agreed. "That would be a goodness, I think. Something quiet that can be accomplished by laying still."

Loki paused meaningfully. "So _glad _you approve," he bowed. And then just to tease the older woman, he vanished completely. Breakfast was being cleared—had he _truly _slept _that late?_-but he claimed fresh bread, juice, jam and honey, an a bowl of cut fruits. He ordered eggs and more of the potent, herb filled sausage he loved as well as a portion of cheese and a fresh carafe of water to be delivered to Sigyn's room. The cooks undoubtedly would be in a fine snit with this late meal. Under other circumstances, he would have ordered the late breakfast sheerly to watch the cooks stew and fume.

He bumped into Frigga, almost spilling the tray of treats he had gathered. "Mother—how goes it with you?"

She cast a rather knowing eye up and down his frame. "Better, than I would say it goes with you." She smiled at him. "Have you truly only now risen? What of Sigyn?" She sniffed delicately. "And...have you...perhaps considered a bath?" Loki grimaced and she took the tray from him. "I'll take this to her and you can get cleaned up."

Loki sniffed again, frowning. He smelled not _too bad_, and certainly not as bad as Thor had smelled after some of his feasts. "It's not that bad," he snapped, but his eyes twinkled merrily.

Frigga shrugged and whisked the tray away with a laugh. "It will do me good to speak with her about the budget for the shelter."

"Your discussion ends when I come in," he chuckled. "Otherwise you'll only encourage insurrection and the dragon guarding the princess will have a fit."

Frigga stopped at that and turned to look at him curiously, only to find that he had vanished.

Loki spent a goodly amount of time in the common baths. The hot water restored him and the masseuse spent a great deal of time smoothing oil into his skin and loosening his muscles. For a while, he was able to forget the duties of the day. Undoubtedly his mother would remind him, but for now, he was pleasantly anticipating some time doting on his adorable wife.

He was clean, in fresh clothes, hair combed and ready to be presentable as he stood at the hallway leading to his and Thor's apartments. Surprisingly, Sif stood at attention at the door, watching the hallway and listening with a wistful smile at the clucking and laughter inside the door. "Lady Sif," Loki greeted.

Sif looked startled for a moment and stood again at attention. "Prince Loki," she greeted in return. Loki only stared at her, waiting for explanation. "Odin summoned most of the guard to review their places for the ceremonies tomorrow. As I have only one place to be, I have been assigned to guard Sigyn for a time."

Loki smirked at her. "I see," he said softly. "Care to come inside?"

Sif only smiled stiffly and shook her head.

Loki smiled and went through the doorway, dodging as the patrol came clanking through the hallway. The doorway to the bedroom was open and the assistant was laughing as she came out. He caught her gaze and she flushed and gestured inside with a low curtsey.

He went to the bedroom, finding Frigga lounging in a chair, reading from a book of silly rhymes and childhood songs. The midwife chuckled at some of them and Sigyn plucked at the sheets. Loki settled on the bed beside his wife and simply held her hand and listened as Frigga launched into another round of stories from his childhood.

Meanwhile, Thor sat in Odin's study, trying hard to look attentive. He could easily name a thousand places he'd rather have been than listening one more time to the advice and words of wisdom that his father was trying to impart. He was growing more and more uncomfortable with the praises that Odin heaped on him—it felt like he was being fattened for the position of king like a goose is fattened for the carving.

He envied Loki's day today. What he wouldn't have given to have been allowed to sleep in after the feasting! And then to be allowed to sit with Sigyn and keep her company. Not that there had been much choice there—when he had passed early that morning, that termagant of a midwife was ordering the guards to be silent and had the audacity to wave him away as though he were a kitchen waif. From what the swooning assistant said, Loki had been quietly ordered to be on hand to ensure that Sigyn remained abed and quiet.

"Have you been listening, Thor?" Odin asked.

Thor flushed a ruddy hue and shook his head with a smile. "My mind is wandering over all that you have told me, Father." He gestured towards an illustration of the Tree of Life and the Nine Realms in its branches. "How do you manage it? When do you ___sleep_?"

Odin glanced at Gungir, unwilling to look his eldest in the eye. "I suppose that I should speak of it now, so that you are not caught unawares." He nodded to himself. "I don't sleep, save for the Odinsleep. And when you are king, it will be the Thorsleep."

Thor's brow pleated in confusion. "What do you mean, Father?"

Odin smirked. "When you are king—when the forces that I command come through you—then you will not sleep either, save for the time when you are forced to in order to replenish your own natural powers. The Odinforce allows me to stay awake to tend to the affairs of Asgard and the rest of the nine realms." His smile grew. "There would not be time otherwise and I do not have the benefit of a brother to shoulder the weight of the throne with me."

Thor smiled widely. "I see."

Odin nodded. "The Odinforce has allowed me to remain vigilant when others falter and must rest. It allows me to have a singular grasp on the problems and resolutions that I must face. It is not always pleasant—to hold another's life in your hands and know that you must judge it. However, it is Frigga that allows me to hold on to my better qualities of mercy and patience."

"Mother?" Thor chuckled. "She would be pleased to hear you admit that."

"And don't you tell her," Odin warned with a conspiratorial grin. "She wields too much power as it is."

Thor laughed outright. "That only tempts me to rush to her side the quicker."

Odin laughed, too. "You would have to fight quite a few to get there since she visits with Sigyn."

Thor grunted. "Many come to the palace to see Sigyn and to pay their respects."

"That is not a bad thing," Odin said softly. "It shows that the people are willing to accept her. And keep in mind, Thor, that the people allow us to rule. True our family gained the throne with force and by strength and uniting all of the realms, but it the people decided to resist-"

"There would be great bloodshed and tragedy," Thor said softly. "The throne would topple."

"And the realms would split apart into factions and war would follow our people."

"I will take care," Thor nodded.

"Good," Odin said. "And when you are king-"

"What will you do?" asked Thor suddenly. "What will become of Odin Borson?"

Odin smiled wistfully and gestured to a map. "I will stay long enough to ensure that the people are loyal and will follow Thor Odinson and then I will retire." Thor arched his eyebrows in silent curiosity. "Frigga and I will go to the mountain palace in the north. There we will live out the rest of our years in relative peace and harmony and loyal to the throne."

Thor smiled. "Don't tell Mother. I believe that she is counting on frequent visits to the markets to buy things for her grandchildren."

"Speaking of grandchildren," Odin said, rising with a creak in his bones. "I should like to go see Sigyn myself." He waved at the door. "Go and enjoy your last hours of freedom."

Thor stood and bowed deeply. "I am honored, Sire."

Odin smirked. "I hope that you will still say that a year from now when the throne weighs down your shoulders and the crown weights your smile." He watched his eldest leave and considered his life.

He had always been proud of Thor. What wasn't there to be proud of? He was brave, strong and everything a good king should be. But was he a good man? He was headstrong and could be bloody thick-headed, even stubborn at times. While he did not lack for gaiety and good spirits, he sometimes seemed to lack the somber thoughtfulness that had been Odin's own companion many a late night. Was he ready? Was he truly the best fit for the throne? And how would he know that Thor was the best fit? Thor had been molded into a king from birth—was it truly what he would want if he held his destiny in his own hands? And how would he—or anyone—know what Thor's choice might have been unless Thor had the opportunity to wield his destiny for himself?

Yet one's destiny was a heady and weighty thing. He had made choices of his own destiny—changing and shaping his path as he had created the nine realms. When Frigga had birthed Thor—he had paused for celebration that his own works would find continuance and the realms would have a guardian after himself. He did—despite snide comments to the contrary—remember the heady feeling of choosing his own path and making his own way.

Yet—Thor had not had these things. He had been raised as the prince of Asgard—had never known a day's want, a desire unfulfilled or unfulfillable, or an uncertainty in his future. He had not had cause to question the rightness of his path or his actions. Instead, he had followed where Odin had led with a son's loyalty and joyful heart.

So it remained, to Odin's weary eyes, that Thor might truly need to see these things. He would need to know want, uncertainty and indecision. His son would need—to truly understand and be a good king—to experience what it was to not know the path ahead. To "muddle through" as the common folk put it. But how? He could hardly be sent to Vanheim or one of the other realms—he would yet be a prince there and command a prince's loyalty and rights. Odin could hardly see sending him to Hel—he might well never return. So where could Thor be sent where he would ___not _be known as a prince—where he would not be worshiped or obeyed blindly?

There were only questions with no answers as Odin considered the treaties littering his desk.

Loki escorted Frigga out of the bedroom and into the sitting room later that day. She had kept them both company with a seeming endless supply of stories of the mischief that he had been in as a youth. Some were sorrowful—lessons he had paid dearly to learn. Some were cheery as his mischief led to laughter.

"I hope that you don't mind me spending time with Sigyn," she said in passing.

"Not at all," he nodded. "I think it keeps her from fretting." He grimaced. Something felt out of place with the birth, but he could not put his finger on it. Even since they had visited, the readings and appearances were of a normal—albeit large—child waiting to be born. Sigyn had not even spoken of being abnormally cold.

Frigga paused and smiled at her younger son. She softly put her hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "She is a darling," she smiled. "I had at first thought the worst—that she was some tavern slattern, but you have proven wiser than I in judging her. She is good for Asgard and for you."

Loki was about to make some comment when a knock at the door stopped him. With a grimace, he gestured for his mother to wait a moment and went to open the door. Odin loomed in the doorway, with what appeared to be two collections of flowers and a small package of sweets in his arms. With a grumpy sound, he dumped them into Loki's arms and strode in to kiss Frigga.

"While I am truly flattered," Loki smirked in bemusement. "I really don't think you're my type." He sniffed the flowers. "And I'm spoken for."

Odin flushed red and Frigga dared to chuckle, "My son, I haven't a doubt that they are for Sigyn."

Odin nodded. "I met some of the ambassadors from Vanheim this afternoon in preparation for the coronation. They were beside themselves to gift the princess of Asgard with these tokens and one seemed almost heartbroken that she was not available to receive them."

Loki conjured vases to hold the bouquets. One was a collection of dark purple irises and golden yellow narcissus and the other was a rainbow of various roses. The package of candies slipped from his fingers as a rose thorn caught his cuff and he curled his foot up to catch it on his ankle. With a kick, it flew up and he grabbed it.

"I should like to visit with Sigyn, if you please," Odin said.

Loki dropped the gifts on a nearby table. "I will see if the midwife will allow it." He rolled his eyes and grumbled in a goodhearted voice, "Somehow, ___I _as her ___husband _am not worthy to render judgment on whether she should have visitors."

Odin did crack a smile at that. "The same thing happened to me. I was actually sent out of the room to fetch various things for most of the labor."

Loki snorted and went back to speak with the midwife.

"My dear," Odin said. "I...I have spoken as king for what may be the last time."

Frigga frowned and led Odin to the comfortable chairs. "It must be hard—letting go after holding on so long."

Odin only nodded with a bleary expression. "My son does not realize how heavy the crown will be on his brow."

"He will learn in time," Frigga whispered. "And he will have Loki to help him." She smirked. "And if Loki can learn to let Sigyn ___breathe _without his presence, then she will be here as well to help." Odin nodded uncertainly but grasped Frigga's hands wearily. "You are tired, my love. The Odinsleep will be a blessing to you."

"Indeed," Odin said softly. "I will rest at last."

Frigga frowned and said sympathetically, "These months that you have put off the Odinsleep have drained you."

Odin leaned close. "I would not have missed them for anything. Not Thor's coronation. Not Sigyn and Loki's wedding. Not the birth of this child." He sighed deeply. "But I am weary—weary of worry and doubt and constant questions that will have no easy answer."

Frigga only nodded as Loki emerged with a smile. "It seems that we are granted reprieve and will be allowed audience." He rubbed his hands together and said with mock seriousness, "Do you suppose we bow or genuflect or just grovel when we enter?"

Frigga rolled her eyes and Odin chuffed out a short laugh. With a heavy sigh, the Allfather said, "Then let us visit the lady before our privilege is recanted."

Sigyn was clothed in a fresh, emerald green silk night gown and sat in their bed, propped with pillows. The little enchanted stone Loki had given her was tight in one hand and a book was in another. She shifted slightly and stuffed the book under a pillow nearby, flushing and hoping no one caught a glimpse of the naughty picture on the cover. She nodded—the only way one could recognize the Allfather when one was confined on one's back—and said with a smile, "Your Majesty."

Odin smiled and came to her, holding out his hands so that she could feel them. "I am glad to see you. It does an old man's heart good to see his daughter-by-marriage and his grandchild so well." He perched on a chair by the bed. "How has your day been?"

Sigyn smiled. "We have been mainly discussing the mischief that Loki has been as a youth." She flushed and a little frown of anger crossed her face. "Of course, it is agreed that he will have little time for such nonsense once Narvi is here."

Odin nodded thoughtfully. "It is true that everything changes when a child enters a union." He smiled softly. "Sometimes it will seem as though you will not have a thought of your own, let alone a moment to rest."

Frigga came to stand by Odin. "I hope that nothing I have said has overly upset you," she murmured. "I had only thought to while away a bit of time telling you of Loki's childhood."

Sigyn swallowed heavily. Truthfully, she felt much more inclined to listen to Loki and his tales now that she had slept so deeply and felt so well. But there was _so much—_so much anger and resentfulness and accusations. She honestly didn't know whether or not to hold him close or to punch him in the gut. "I have enjoyed your company," she finally replied.

Loki watched from the corner of the room as his father beamed at Sigyn. He was doting on Sigyn as any grandfather-to-be might. When had he gotten so old? So tired? Of course, the Allfather was not feeble, but there was an aura of fretful weariness about him. Had the years gone so quickly that he had not noticed?

He frowned at the package of chocolates in his hand. Yet...they didn't even seem to notice that he was not a part of this little circle, nor that he was in the room... He felt a prickle down his spine, a brief tickle really, of magic as it pooled around Sigyn's hands. "Purple feathers," he said suddenly.

Sigyn paused and for a moment, the rush of magic seemed to pause around her too. With an embarrassed flush, she brought one hand to cover her face. "Is this ___really _the time to bring that up?"

Odin glanced at Frigga in confusion, but Frigga shrugged. She was as mystified as he was about 'purple feathers'. Odin recovered and cleared his throat. "What about purple feathers?"

Sigyn groaned, hiding her face with both hands. "It's terribly embarrassing." She took a deep breath and dropped her hands down dramatically. "I...I was pecked rather soundly by one of my father's chickens. I said something foul to it and the poor thing turned purple and laid green eggs." She tried to laugh and shrug. "My father took some of the purple feathers and sold them since we could not sell the eggs."

Odin's eye lit up in sudden understanding. "Really?" he choked out as laughter crowded in his throat.

"Someone bought them," Sigyn continued. "I don't know how or who. But afterward, the chicken molted and had rust brown feathers-"

"Ah-HA!" Odin barked, pointing at Sigyn and grinning madly at Frigga. "I ___told_you that the feathers were purple!"

Frigga's laughter choked her. "Oh...my dear..." She took at glance at her younger son and went shamefaced. "Loki—I'm so sorry-"

"What is it?" Sigyn asked innocently.

Odin's laughter filled the room. "I bought a rather beautiful straw hat with a purple satin ribbon on the crown. I paid the milliner to add a ribbon rosette with a golden medallion in the middle and then to surround it all with the most amazing purple-"

"Purple feathers!" Sigyn gaped.

Frigga laughed as well, but only nervously. "But when I opened the box, Sigyn, there were the most _common_, rust brown chicken feathers on it."

Sigyn groaned and threw herself back into her pillows. "No...oh, no."

Odin smirked at his wife, tickled for the truth come out. Frigga choked back her tears and forced a laugh. "Some blamed Loki for it—that he had ruined it or bespelled it." She smiled nervously. "And now we find-"

"It was all my fault," Sigyn groaned again. She shuddered. "I suppose that I could try again for purple feathers, but we might end up with a worse result." Her voice hitched. "The poor dear thing might end up bald. Or a rat. Or something worse."

"I would not let that happen," Loki snorted.

Sigyn seemed to consider his words carefully. At last she said, "I believe that you would try to stop it from happening to prevent harm to Asgard."

"Indeed," Odin chortled. His smile extended to Frigga. "I ___told _you that I had purchased purple."

Frigga huffed. "Sigyn—this is what happens when a man is proven right. He becomes unbearably huffy about it."

Sigyn laughed at that thought. "I doubt my Loki would do that."

"Still," Odin said, standing. "I believe that I must give Loki my apologies." Loki looked up at him warily. The Allfather had so rarely—if ever—needed to apologize for anything that the circumstances and protocols were almost unknown. Odin offered his hand and smile and said, "My son—it seems that I have been gravely mistaken about you in this." Loki took his hand warily. "I allowed rumors and gossip to flourish and did not pay attention when you said that you had done nothing and for that I apologize."

Loki shook the hand somberly. "I...accept."

The door to the sitting area burst open and Thor's voice swelled. "Loki! Brother!"

"In here, dear," Frigga said with a smile in her voice and a quelling look at the midwife. "We are in the bedroom keeping Sigyn company."

Thor strode in, tossing Mjolnir up and down in the air. "It is the last night before the coronation and the Warriors Three and I were going to go riding in the woods. Perhaps camp overnight. We would like to bring Sif along—if you can spare her."

"Of course," Loki nodded, dropping the Allfather's hand. "I will get my cloak—"

Thor flushed bright red. "Err... we had intended to go off and let you and Mother and Father keep Sigyn company."

Loki stiffened. "I see."

Thor looked into Loki's eyes, unable to read what was in them. Loki hid his thoughts and feeling so deep some said he had none. "We meant no ill-will, Loki. Only to be out one last time..."

Loki looked at him as though he saw a stranger. "Of course." He gestured to a chair against the wall. "I will be here, apparently."

Thor looked at him and nodded slowly. Loki must have been in a strange mood today. Perhaps it was nerves? "We will be back early tomorrow morning in time to bathe and prepare for the ceremonies."

"Go on, son," Odin said.

Thor bowed and then bowed again at Sigyn. "And for you, dear sister, I will bring back a gift. Would you like a pelt to wrap your son in or perhaps something else?"

"Oh, go on with you," Sigyn smiled uneasily. "You hardly need to be worrying about me." She gestured to the room. "I am well accounted for."

"As you say," Thor nodded. He leaned over to peck Frigga on the cheek. "I will see you all on the morrow." With a flourish of scarlet cape, he let himself out.

Loki sat heavily in the chair and watched as his father began gently speaking with Sigyn again. His father clung to her hands and his mother perched on the edge of the bed, adding comments as the Allfather chattered on. Again she was regaled with stories of great battles and history and stories of his youthful pranks.

The afternoon stretched into evening. Frigga and Odin left to attend dinner, and to send up a generous platter of food for him and another platter of simpler fare for Sigyn. The assistant was dismissed for the night and when a second assistant arrived, the midwife left briefly to go home and tend some chores there. Sigyn took a nap, dozing over her book with his little stone clutched tightly in her hand.

Annoyed, he stood and left the room to pace the hallways. Damn his luck. He suddenly saw the wisdom of Thor and Odin being told to take him feasting—at least it passed the time. Loki saw Kendal out of the corner of his eye as she hauled a heavy bucket of water to clean a balcony. _"____So that's where she was re-assigned,"_he thought. With a flick of his hand, he made a swarm of mosquitoes appear around her. As she swatted and cursed the things, she saw him, toying with the little package in his hands. She screamed in wordless anger and ran back inside, trailed by a few of the little bugs.

He laughed a little, crushing the package in his hand. Without another thought, he dumped its crushed contents onto the balcony and kicked the bucket. The water splashed over the sugar candies and the chocolates—softened by his hands' heat—seemed to only plop there. In as little as an hour, there would be a horrendous mess for Kendal to clean up.

The morning dawned early and seemed heavy with rain despite the bright sunlight. Loki forced himself to rise from the couch in a salon that he had slept on and go to the bathing chambers. Thor was already there, attended by two servants.

"Brother," Thor greeted as one of them poured hot water over his soapy back. "I have brought your lady back a fine pelt."

Loki only shrugged and eased into the hot water. A single servant attended him, but at least one of Thor's lackeys had brought forward two goblets of wine.

After soaking in the warm water and taking turns being massaged, the collection of servants dressed them in their ceremonial armor. Loki scowled at the helm that Thor had chosen.

Thor noticed the frown. "My totem animal is the ram and the design is meant to echo that as my feathers echo the Allfather's raven totem."

Loki scowled at it again. He preferred the feathered helm Thor had been given. "It looks like cow horns," he finally said.

Thor chuckled and shrugged into his cape. "It does not. It looks...distinguished."

"To a bull, perhaps," Loki grumbled.

They walked in companionable silence down the hallways. The palace was abnormally quiet—everyone was awaiting Thor's big moment in the grand great hall. Thor paused for a moment and put his hand on Loki's shoulder. "Brother," he rumbled softly. "Do not think that I mean to forget you on this day." Loki only nodded and stared down the shadowy hallway. "I will remember you and Sigyn always."

Loki swallowed heavily and opened his mouth when a servant came running up to him with a folded paper in his hand. With a bow and a muttered apology, he handed it to Loki. Glancing over, the sorceror looked at the unfamiliar writing with a frown.

"I have a message from the princess," the man muttered.

"Sigyn?" Thor boomed anxiously. "She is well? The baby? What about-"

Loki gestured impatiently and interrupted. "What is it, man?"

"She...she is well and sends her wishes to you and hopes that you will enjoy yourself at the ceremony and feast following." The servant shrugged. "The midwife gave me the paper to give to you."

Loki nodded uncertainly. Thor frowned and drew his hand over his face roughly. Their eyes met and Thor seemed anxious—almost pale. His elder brother demanded, "Tell me that Sigyn is unwell and I will give you leave... No—I will cancel this and we will go to her. I-"

"She is well," Loki said. "It cannot be of great import if it is only a written paper." He threw a steely glance at the servant and flicked the message open. "She is well and slept peacefully. But I will need to return to the room after the ceremony."

"Is that all?" Thor demanded. "Surely there is more detail!" He snatched the paper and read it himself. Then fixing the servant in his flashing blue gaze he demanded again, "Is there a problem?"

"N-n-no, Your Highness," the man stammered. "Not that I know of."

"Bah!" Thor snorted. He waved the man away. "We must-"

"Let's just get this over with," Loki snapped, snatching the paper back. "You get the crown and then I will go see what is happening." He tucked the great staff he had been given into the crook of his elbow and pulled at the close collar around his neck. "The sooner we are out of this the better."

"Are you sure, Loki?" Thor asked. "Are you sure that we should continue? Tell me that we are needed elsewhere and I will end this." He swallowed heavily, wiping his hands on his pants. "If you go now, no one will be able to gainsay it and after I am king, I will silence any who try."

Sigyn gasped in agony as Narvi pressed suddenly and sharply against her innards, dragging her out of a pleasant nap. A great wash of water flowed from her. The midwife darted in from the sitting area and gave a little cry as she grabbed a towel to begin cleaning up. The instruments and devices all showed impossible readings, but as Sigyn panted and wailed, they saw that the grandson of Odin was not going to wait further to be born.

Loki stuffed the note in a pocket and nodded. Truthfully, though, Thor's brashness increased as they went further down the hallway. He took a goblet of wine and threw it into one of the huge lit floor torch, causing a great fireball. He all but stomped down the steps, glancing around nervously and seeming to twitch at every shadow. When a servant drew close with a goblet of wine, Loki flicked his wrist and caused it to appear to be a goblet of snakes instead. The servant dropped the platter and ran. Thor actually laughed at the prank and made some smart remark about the horns on Loki's helm. He even insisted that Loki enter the hall first as he gathered his nerves and again wiped his sweating palms on his pants.

Sigyn felt every muscle protest as Narvi bore down inside her. She gasped in agony and was only able to curl up a bit to help bear down as well.

If Loki did not know better, he would have supposed Thor to have fallen in love with Sigyn. He considered it—how Thor's eyes were anxious and how he had insisted on reading the damn note that told them nothing and how his palms had sweated. Thor—known to battle giants and trolls with ease—was sweating over a piece of paper. Who would have guessed? Who would now guess that Loki's teeth were gritted as tightly as millstones at the thought?

Sigyn waved the midwife's assistant away and told her to get a washcloth from the bathroom. Balling her fists into knots in the sheets, she wailed and pushed down again. Some hidden instinct was guiding her, telling her to push...

Loki took his walk down the aisle at a stately, princely pace. It mattered not one whit that the cheering seemed to lessen he told himself. He bowed to his Mother—who winked at him. Then to his father, who nodded solemnly. With his steps slowly measured, he took his place on the dais. Loki stared at the floor, his hand tight around his staff. He did not hear them cheering for Thor. Did not see Thor walk past, tossing Mjolnir up and down like a child. He was not even watching as Thor knelt before Odin to take his vows.

Sigyn could only vaguely hear the midwife as she encouraged and cajoled her to rest, then to push, then to rest again. She sucked in a lungful of air as Narvi twisted in her and found that she could not breathe as a wave of cold swept over her. The cold seemed to steal the breath from her lungs and to cramp her muscles. "Loki!" she called out in vain as she pressed down again.

Loki felt more than heard the hall grow silent as Odin began the traditional oaths. Thor played his part—smirking and smiling as though he hadn't a care in the world. Odin smiled at him and Frigga grinned impishly. The Warriors Three stood at attention, dressed in their best. Sif stood proudly, watching Thor closely as he took his vows to Asgard.

Sigyn felt the child moving and heard the words of the midwife as though from a distance. Her chest could not draw in enough of the frozen air and the midwife gave some sort of howl. Narvi was coming out and there was nothing anyone could do as she pushed the immense child from her womb. And it was so cold! Distantly she prayed that Loki was soon done—that he would return to her. Why had she spurned him? Why had she been so proud and angry? She bore down, praying for help as gruff, larger voices muttered and the air grew colder still.

Loki could not bear it a moment longer when he heard the words "Frost Giants."

It could not be. There could be no way... Loki snapped to attention as the hall went mad with fear. Thor and the Warriors and Sif crowded around Odin who led them to a doorway in the back of the room. Frigga had been hustled away by her personal guards. With a wave, he teleported to the lower hallways which led to the family wing and to the weapons vault.

The guards were frozen—dead against the walls, as he arrived. The Frost Giants had a clear path directly to the weapons' vault. He stared at the lacy frost patterns on the wall distantly, wondering if Thor was actually king at this point. His magic formed a shield around him as he began slowly creeping to follow the trail of carnage.

Odin and Thor came up to him, panting slightly at the run. The Warriors Three and Sif shouted for them to take care and darted down the hallways to the family wing. The trio grimly followed the pathway of frozen dead bodies to the vault. Odin swallowed heavily, frowning at the dead—both Joten and Asgardian.

Sif and the Warriors raced through the hallways. The guards had been above for the most part, but the one or two that had remained here and there were dead. None of them had wanted to see the damage—only note that it was done and to hopefully prevent further deaths.

Sif let out a strangled cry as they emerged into the hallway reserved for the family apartments. Four of the Star Guards were frozen against the columns. One more was...in pieces on the floor. Hogun only grunted, but Fandral's eyes shimmered as he pressed forward. "They are heading for the apartments," she said, running again down the hall.

"What on Asgard could they want there?" Fandral mused darkly.

"What does it matter?" Volstagg growled. "They will pay!"

Sif grunted as they turned the corner and came to Frigga's door. The guards that stood there were unhurt, but alarmed. One of them was pale as paper as he gestured down the hallway. She continued down the hallway.

"Damn Loki," she cursed. "He's probably got some trinket or something that they are after hidden in his room."

They turned the corner to the Princes' hallway and saw another pair of guards, frozen. From Loki's bedroom came a sharp wail and a Frost Giant stepped out with a small bundle, wrapped in a thick pelt. The Giant looked at them and snarled. A second emerged and threw down an egg-shaped thing that exploded into cold light and the Giants fled through it.

Sif wailed, her knees wobbly as she looked inside the apartment. There were all manner of things frozen—including two bouquets of roses, daffodils and irises. Stepping gingerly threw the wreckage, she willed herself to look. To see what had been done.

The midwife's frozen corpse was against a cracked wall that was lacy with frost. The closet door was frozen shut and someone was banging on it, begging to be released. Fandral sighed and went to pry the ice from the doorposts. Hogun prowled the corners, looking in the spare bedroom and closet. Volstagg charged down the hallway to see if there were more giants lurking and to bring help.

So it was left to her to see to Sigyn. Time slowed and warped around her—mere seconds stretching into what felt like hours. She didn't dare look—even when she thought she heard a soft cry. It hurt somehow to think of Sigyn as another macabre glacier on the bed. Slowly, she turned to see.

Sigyn panted and twitched on the bed. Her breath came out in billows like smoke and the covers were tangled all around her. The blankets were frozen and icy and had stiffened into effective fetters, holding her splayed legs open. Icicles made a spiky canopy over her. Sif let out an happy cry to see that she lived.

"Sigyn!" she shouted.

Sigyn panted from the bed. "Sif?" she croaked. "Lady Sif?"

"I'm here!" she said, tugging on the blankets. One snapped like a twig in her hand and a leg jerked madly. "I'll get you out."

Sigyn wailed again as she pressed down again. The afterbirth slid from her—feeling almost scalding against her skin after the brush with the monsters. She drew in a breath, choking on the smell of blood. "Go... G-g-get the King. Get Loki..."

Sif fumbled around and found a cloak to draw over Sigyn's shivering form. The blood nauseated her, but she pulled an arm over her shoulders. Sigyn's weakness was profound and she only slumped into a shivering pile. Fandral finally managed to pry open the door—actually, break open the door—and the assistant fled. Coming back to Sif, he picked Sigyn up brought her out.

Volstagg came back with a black look on his face as they came out. "No one else but her..." was all he said.

Fandral cuddled the messy form of Sigyn against his chest. "She is cold," he muttered to his friends. "We must warm her."

"Thor's bathing chambers," Sif decided. "She can be warm enough there and be cleaned up."

The group huddled around the weeping princess and made their way into the hall. Blood dripped from Sigyn's gown and landed on the floor to form bright red dots. Hogun ran up, looking at the blood wildly and Volstagg nodded at Sigyn.

Sif opened the door to Thor's chambers. Like the man himself, they were masculine and dashing and bold in primarily red and silver. She led the way through the sitting room, the bedroom and closet and the private bathing chamber.

Hogun's eyes went wide and he shook his head. "Better to go to the common baths."

Fandral nodded in agreement. "Your heart is in the right place, Lady Sif, but Loki will-"

"Loki will what?" Loki snapped angrily from the doorway.

The group turned to look at him. His eyes were snapping emerald fire and one hand was clenched in a fist that was alight with magical fire. He looked at the huddled form in Fandral's arms and his eyes went wide, his face went paper white and sweat beaded on his lip. With a low growl, he asked, "What happened?"

Sigyn struggled in Fandral's arms. "Loki? Loki! Please..."

Fandral came forward and gently set Sigyn down. Sigyn leaned against Loki, grabbing his decorated armor and almost stopped shivering. But her knees were still weak and her muscles still locked with cramps and she fell to the floor. Loki dropped to the floor beside her.

"Please, Loki..." she whispered. "Please go after Narvi..."

Loki frowned at her, noting the blood droplet trail and the stained and torn gown. "What happened, Sigyn?"

She only shivered harder, grunting as her arms instinctively went around herself. "I...I felt Narvi coming. Then the room got cold and I heard the midwife scream. Narvi arrived quickly and then... The ___Frost Giants__, _Loki! The Frost Giants have Narvi."

Loki jumped to his feet as Thor came in. "We go to Jotenheim!" he barked at Thor. At Sif, he glared and growled, "See that she is well and then join us at the Bifrost!"

Thor looked set to go to Sigyn and tried to push past his furious younger brother only to be shoved back. "But Sigyn-!"

Loki brushed past and stomped down the hall to where the Allfather was waiting in Frigga's quarters.

Thor looked at Sigyn and gestured for Sif to come closer. "He will get himself killed going to Jotenheim alone. Sif, stay with the princess. She is to use these chambers to rest and get cleaned up." They heard Loki shrieking down the hallway. "I will go to Loki."

"We will come with you," Fandral said with a smile.

Thor nodded and they left Sif to deal with Sigyn. Sigyn shuddered and felt for a nearby chair. Stumbling and falling, she drug herself closer to the fireplace that Thor kept lit, nearly kicking Sif several times. Her throat was on fire and she could only whisper, "Go with them..."

Sif started. "I have to-"

"Go with them," Sigyn shuddered. "Bring back my baby." Sif stared at her and tried to approach her to help her stand. Sigyn kicked again towards the sound of tapping boots. With an evil growl, she snapped. "I ___order_it._"_

Sif jerked away at the rare bite of malevolence in the princess's voice and ran down the hallway. In front of Frigga's door, Odin bellowed at his sons. "I forbid it! We will see to the palace and our people first-"

"Narvi will not live that long!" Loki snapped, both hands fisted and on fire.

"Narvi will live," Odin said calmly. "Laughey will not dare to kill him." He sighed heavily, his palm rubbing his one good eye. "I will go to Jotenheim as soon as the palace is settled."

"Why do you think this?" Loki demanded angrily. "Why do you think that he ___won't _kill a prince of Asgard? They have ___already_invaded us. _They _have started a _war_."

"And I will end it!" Thor snapped.

Sif slid quietly to Frigga and whispered, "Your Majesty—please go to Sigyn. She is in Thor's chambers." Frigga wrung her hands and nodded. Attempting to look composed she rushed down the hallway, brushing past Odin and Thor and Loki.

Thor growled at Odin again, standing by his brother. Odin looked at the two of them and sighed, "I have loved Sigyn and her child as well. But we must tend her and we must tend to the people of Asgard before a vendetta-" He growled low. "I will _personally _see to Sigyn and her child as soon as we know the full extent of the damage. The Destroyer protected the weapons vaults. What if the giants have made _other _thefts?"

Thor nodded slowly. "We need to know the full extent before we leave..." He sighed deeply, Mjolnir still clutched in his hand. "We will gather the remaining guards to the palace in case they mean to attack while we give chase..." Loki stared at his brother wildly and snarled, disappearing in a puff of magic. Thor felt his anger grow hot and he turned to his father again. "Please...Father—let me and the Warriors go and bring back Narvi. Loki is not thinking clearly—that I will grant—but he is not without cause."

Odin looked at the earnest face of his eldest son. Sadly, he shook his head. "Son—I already know that Laughey will keep Narvi alive. He means to pay back an old hurt." At Thor's confused expression, he tried to smile. "Gather your friends and I will see that Sigyn is settled."

Thor frowned and considered his father's words. Odin did have a way of knowing things that weren't immediately clear. "If you are sure that he means to keep Narvi alive, then I will do as you command."

"I am sure," Odin sighed sadly.

Frigga was nauseated at the sight of Sigyn as she huddled around a footstool in front of the fireplace in Thor's room. There seemed to be blood everywhere and all over everything. The servants were terrified to come to the hall, but some few had listened to her instructions and were cleaning up. Loki's apartments were ruins of ice and frost, of course, and there would need to be serious renovations to make them habitable again. Sigyn's strength was depleted and she put up no resistance as Frigga poked and prodded her to Thor's private bathing chamber.

Sigyn sat numbly and silently in the warm water as the servants tried to clean her up. She hissed as they tried to touch her thighs where there was still blood and the tears that came from delivering Narvi's huge frame, but made no other protest. Frigga sent for a healer and wrapped Sigyn up in one of her own robes and then in a spare cloak of Thor's and led her to the bed. Sigyn went to sleep almost immediately, grateful to be allowed unconsciousness.

Loki reappeared on the balcony of the small dining hall where Thor was supposed to feast with his friends after the coronation. Alone for the moment, Thor brooded into a cup. Looking at his brother's face, he saw that the Allfather had somehow convinced him to wait a bit. So, smirk on his face, he went to ___un-convince_him.

The Warriors Three and Sif had managed to get into clean clothes and were all armed against a renewed attack. They saw Thor and Loki sitting quietly to one side, chatting. Frowning, Sif tried to approach them to see what was going on.

Sigyn stayed in the bedroom—Thor's bedroom—and slept for many hours. It was Frigga who woke her and forced her to sit up enough to eat some meat, bread and cheese as well as a cup from the healer designed to help her heal and to ease any pain. Sigyn pushed it all away and tried to curl up to sleep again, but Frigga's little whimper made her heart break. Finally, she rose on one elbow and croaked, "Is Narvi dead?"

Frigga sighed sadly and said, "I don't know—none have told me." Sigyn's face fell and she made to turn over and sleep again, but Frigga's gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her. "But Loki _needs _you now." She knew it was unfair to ask Sigyn to rise and face him now, but he did need her. For that matter, all of Asgard needed her gentle touch if Loki was to sit on the throne for long. "He needs to know that you are well—despite everything..."

Sigyn nodded slowly. Something had happened—something terrible if the hitch in the Queen's voice was any indication. Thankfully, Frigga had conjured a reasonable dress—at least, she hoped it was a reasonable dress—and was helping her get it on.

"What has happened—Mother?" she choked out.

Frigga paused to wrap a daintily embroidered scarf around her neck. Her throat closed as she tried to figure out what had happened. "Loki...he and Thor-"

"Enough, Mother," Loki's voice sounded firmly through the doorway. "I will attend _my wife. _You may find us another set of apartments to live in."

Frigga felt her pride prick at being ordered by her son, but Loki was overwrought. So, she helped Sigyn to her feet and over to Loki and then went to open up another set of apartments.

Sigyn sagged against Loki as Frigga left. Loki snorted, "Silly Mother—expecting you to simply rise and walk." He scooped her up and went to a chair by the fireplace and sat down with her in his arms and on his lap. "I'm sorry, my love, but we will make do here until there are other quarters available."

Sigyn sagged against him. "Loki," she whispered. "My love, I swear if you tell me lies evermore, I will not speak a word of complaint but tell me the truth now-" Loki tensed unbearably. "-where is Narvi?"

Loki felt almost sleepy with the rush. He had already heard the whispers and rumors that began that _he _had caused the Jotun invasion. That he had plotted to exile Thor. Sigyn had only asked about Narvi, though, and not the rest. "Narvi...," he whispered, holding her close. "Narvi is..."

"Is what?" she moaned against his chest.

"Narvi is dead," he whispered. The hot prick of tears flooded his eyes as a look of horror dawned on Sigyn's face.

Sigyn shuddered and wailed against his chest. She could bear nothing more and for a dizzy moment, she felt her head cloud and almost swooned in her grief. All that she could cling to now was Loki.

"We went against the orders of the Allfather," Loki continued brokenly. "Thor gathered the Warriors Three and Sif and me and we traveled down the rainbow bridge to the Bifrost. Heimdall greeted me saying that we had not dressed warmly enough. He seemed about to refuse us passage, but relented saying only that he would not open the gates if we brought trouble with us-" Sigyn's breath caught in her throat. "I had sent a guard to tell Frigga and Odin where we were.

"We traveled to Jotenheim and Thor spoke to Laughey and Faubrati, who are the Frost Giant king and queen—at least for the moment since they can shift genders as they please. Faubrati cradled a little bundle, wrapped in pelts. I went to investigate and there was only a tiny Jotun baby.

"I could not breathe and Thor shed tears when Laughey said that Narvi was no more. Laughey called him a princess and Thor attacked. We fought as best we could and then the Allfather came to us."

Sigyn's breath shuddered. "The Allfather?"

"He came to get us out of there. We were outnumbered and had our backs to a cliff. Odin came in and fought them back with Gungir. Without looking at us, he told Laughey that we had trespassed against his orders. Laughey shrugged and said that he hoped so in order to give Asgard the war it wants." Loki drew in a shuddering breath. "The Allfather forced us to return here."

Sigyn shuddered, biting her lip. Somehow, deep in her empty belly, she knew that there was more. Yet, Loki was silent—petting her hair and holding her as she shook with her fury. When she couldn't stand it another moment, she whispered, "Is there more?"

Loki swallowed heavily. "Thor...was banished." He blinked heavily, showing only his blind wife his grief.

"And the Allfather?" Sigyn breathed.

"He spoke with me in the weapon's vault and then collapsed into the Odinsleep."

Sigyn felt the wail in her throat—in her gut—but it was chained there and couldn't come out. It felt like a choking hand and she almost couldn't catch her breath. "What are we to do?" she choked out.

"I don't know," he said, which was only half a lie. He knew what he _wanted _to happen, but good things happening to him were likely only traps or illusions.

"Will...Mother know?" she asked plainly.

"We will ask her," he replied simply. "As soon as she has Odin laid out and is ready to receive visitors, I have asked that she see us."

"Oh thank goodness," she choked out. "I knew that I could count on your foresight."

Loki blinked rapidly. Of all the reactions he had expected, this was not one of them. With a sigh, he held her closer and simply waited as she unknotted herself and cried her fear and grief out. Somehow, it seemed ironic that she should cry out her grief here—in Thor's chambers—when Thor had caused her such grief to begin with.

She hiccuped and let out a slightly unladylike belch and raised her face to timidly smile at him. "I shouldn't keep you," she whispered. He blanched and she smoothed his damp garments over his shoulders. "But I am jealous and would like an hour or two before some duty takes you from me."

Loki smirked. "Your wish is my will," he whispered, kissing her palm. He led her to the bed. Unsurprisingly—especially to he who whelped Sleipnir—she was unable or unwilling or both to do much more than be tucked into the bed beside him and relish his warmth and company.


	6. The Fall

A few hours later, a maid arrived, timidly knocking at the great oaken door. "My lord! My lord!" she called.

Loki pulled himself from the garish red sheets and pulled on his pants and a shirt. This door was much more massive—a great carved affair with black iron bands—than the one that lately had been on his chambers and it took some effort to pull it open.

A plainly dressed maid curtseyed deeply and whispered, "Y-your Highness_,_" she croaked in a cracking voice. "The Queen has a message for you and desires to see you in the Allfather's chamber before you begin your evening."

Loki nodded absently. It somehow just figured that she would want to say things to him first. "Is there anything else?"

The girl curtseyed again, careful to keep her eyes on the floor. "I was also instructed to invite the Princess, if she was available. If not, then I am to stay with her and show her the new apartments for her approval when she rises."

Loki nodded again. "I see," was all he said. "If that is all, then stay with the..._princess _until she awakens. If she has not risen by supper, then send for me."

The maid nodded and practically slammed against the wall in her haste to let him go past. Just to scare her, he summoned his armor around him, the great green cape billowing out of nothingness and the armor shimmering into being. She ducked into the chamber quickly and shut the door with no amount of stealth.

Frigga sat beside the prone form of Odin as he lay in his Odinsleep. Loki knocked to please her and she softly bade him enter. But she could not smile as she looked at her husband. In fact, she barely looked up at the son who approached her so timidly.

"Mother," Loki said as he looked at the Allfather.

"You know the truth," she said softly. She closed her eyes and for a moment looked almost angry. "There should be no secrets in a family."

"Then why did he lie?" Loki asked sadly. Of course—why would ___anyone _lie? And why would anyone feel the slightest compunction about lying to the on called Lie-smith, the Master of Trickery and Shifter of Truth? The peppery, coppery flavor of truth filled his mouth—it tasted vile like bile.

"He kept the truth from you so that you would never feel different. You are our son, Loki, and we, your family. You must know that." She tried again to smile at him.

Loki swore softly. His ears heard the heavy sounds of stomping—like guards. His face broke into a smile—perhaps Sigyn had awoken from her grief and was ready to join him. Then he frowned, tears gathering in his throat and twisting his stomach. He was Jotun—not just half or a part—but a full-blooded, true-blue, bloody, icy nightmare. With his foul luck, Sigyn was being told his every dark secret as guards gathered to lead him to the dungeons.

It all made a twisted kind of sense now—all the little slights and favoritism that he had simply stewed over. In a terrifying way, it explained the ease that the Jotun—the other Jotun—had come and gone because such sorcery needed an anchor and what better anchor than one of their blood? And it could hardly be termed a wonder that Odin had favored Thor over him—he wasn't even of Asgard!

With a heavy heart, he waited as the door opened. Guards lined the hallway. He couldn't contemplate spending the rest of existence locked in a dungeon somewhere, waiting for the inevitable day when either Odin decided to kill him or Thor ascended to the throne.

The heavily robed chancellor stood with Gungir in his hands and, without much more than a sniff, bowed and offered it to him. Loki tensed, frowning as he tried to discern the trap. He looked up at his mother.

"Thor is banished. The line of succession falls to you," she explained sadly. "Until Odin awakens," she added archly.

Loki gingerly took the staff. He would not have been at all amazed to have it rise out of his hands and begin to beat him as Odin had done trying to teach him warrior ways. Or perhaps it was more Gungir's style to burn him to cinders as soon as he tried to wield the thing.

The chancellor backed up a few steps, eyes trained on the ground. Frigga took up the call, "My King."

The others murmured it, almost like a prayer for mercy.

Gungir, of course, did not burn him. At least, not in the accepted definition of the terms. Instead, it simply waited—like a faithful hound or good, old friend who waited for the right one to take it up. Instead, he felt a rush of magical power—seeking power—as though Gungir was merely seeing who wielded the power of the throne of Asgard. Once it flushed through him, the feeling of waiting ceased and Gungir became inert again.

Loki stared at the staff in perplexed wonder. With an absent bluff, he tried to wave the guards and assembled folk away. Surprisingly, they retreated and shut the door softly behind them.

"What do I do now?" Loki said softly, wonderingly.

Frigga choked back a soft cry. This—this had never been meant to happen. It had never been anticipated that their adopted child would hold the mighty Gungir and sit on the throne. Somehow, she had ignored that—pushed it away like a noisome puppy. Thor had been meant to rise to the throne from the first and, even when she had first held Loki in her arms, she had known that.

Of course, they had encouraged his ambitions, hadn't they? They had called him "prince" and made him equal to Thor. She swallowed heavily. They had loved him, reared him, celebrated him. She had even shared her powers with him when he first came to Asgard, to give him a place in the sun and out of the shadows of his brother and father.

She gathered her breath and her courage. "You will rule over Asgard. You will follow the wisdom of your father-"

"He's not my father," Loki whispered. One hand trailed over Gungir like a mischievous child—an aura of magic clinging between his fingers and the staff like a spiderweb.

"No—but he is the one who raised you, who took you on your first hunt and taught you warrior's ways." She tried to smile and gestured to her husband. "He is the one who listens to you now—even in the Odinsleep." She took another breath. "You must now show him that you are his son—that you can rule with justice and fairness."

Loki's eyes closed wearily. "Does Sigyn know?"

Frigga looked at him in bewilderment, but then figured out his meaning. "If you have told her of the Odinsleep, then she does. If you have spoken to her of Thor's banishment, then she knows of that too. None but the three of us know of...the other." She shook her golden head. "I will not speak of it."

"I will...leave you to your duties," Loki said, straightening his spine. "And I will see to my own."

Frigga nodded. "I will not leave him. He pressed himself so hard to see you wed and...everything. I fear that should I even blink, he will leave me."

"I will see that your privacy is respected," Loki nodded. "But Sigyn will worry."

"Sigyn...," Frigga said softly. Finally, she nodded. "I should enjoy her company from time to time. But none know how long this will last and she should be at your side."

Loki paused for a moment. "Am I king then? Truly?"

Frigga frowned. "You are king-in-waiting. If Odin awakens, then he will resume his rule. If he...passes, then the power of the Odinforce will flow from him into you and you will be king in truth." She frowned. "It would help the people to know you as their king if there was a proper coronation—if Odin could bless you and crown you himself. But I cannot arrange a proper coronation for you right now."

"You are needed...here," Loki decided.

Loki wandered out the door and down the hallway. Many who saw him at first simply scurried out of his way, but those who paused and saw Gungir knew that the horrid whispers were true and that Loki was now the overlord over them all. No few whispered prayers that night, praying for a swift end to the Odinsleep. A few remembered the Princess Sigyn and prayed that she would recover and come forward as the Queen they needed her to be in the absence of Frigga's gentle touch.

Late the next day, Sif and the Warriors Three paced and argued in the hall. Once the word "traitor" was thought, it seemed to linger in the air like the stench of illness. Sif sniffed haughtily and Volstagg ate and ate and ate. In theory, the eating soothed his mind from the scalding frozen burn on his arm. Fandral and Hogun—two halves of the same coin—lounged and considered the situation as Sif fussed at Volstagg.

None considered the silent ears listening to their talk. Sigyn stood in the shadows of the doorway. A maid had said that Loki might have been seen here and she had been drawn to the voices. Now that the words had been spoken, they could not be undone—could not be drawn out of her ears and mind.

Had Loki done these evil things?

She might have laughed at the thought had she not been so miserably tired and in such pain. The healers had come and plied her with potions and massage and ensured that she was able to walk and stand with the aid of a steady cane. Now she wandered to see if she could find Loki. Despair crept around her—if they truly thought him a traitor, would she find him in the dungeons?

She crept to a chair in the hallway and sat down heavily. Another voice had joined in the discussion in the nearby room—an angry, almost anxious tenor surrounded by four rougher voices. Sigyn swallowed heavily, simply waiting patiently and listening.

Lightly soled boots thudded out of the room and into her hallway. Sigyn cocked her head and listened, but it was the first breath of dragon's blood scent that called to her first. "Loki?" she croaked out.

Loki spun around and finally saw her as she sat with a carved cane in the hallway. "M-my dear?" he whispered. Then, more angrily, he hissed, "You are supposed to be resting. Not wandering the palace."

Sigyn snorted. "I have been checked out and been told that it is fine for me to walk a bit."

Loki snorted back. "All the way here?" He picked her up in his arms. "I think not."

Sigyn could not find the energy to fight his strong arms. "As you say," she whispered.

Loki conjured them back to hall of the family apartments. Then he considered the ruined wreck of his own doorway in frustration. "Have they given us new apartments?"

Sigyn nodded. "Up the stairs and the first door on the right."

Loki sighed and went up the stairs. A maid was mopping the hallways and dropped into a low curtsey without meeting his eyes. But the door was open to a light filled and airy apartment. Done in brilliant shades of gold and cream and purple, it looked regal with a nicely appointed sitting room, a study, two bedrooms and a small, communal bath. The windows looked out over the streets rather than the gardens and had only sheer cream colored drapes, but aside from that, it was moderately acceptable until his own apartments could be rebuilt.

Loki sat Sigyn down on the closest chair. "You, miss, need to rest and recover."

Sigyn sighed. "As you wish," she whispered. She frowned for a moment and finally whispered, "Is it true that you cannot undo the banishment?"

Loki stiffened angrily. "It is!" he snapped.

Sigyn nodded thoughtfully, then asked, "Why?"

Loki blinked a few times in confusion. "Well...well, because it was the Allfather's wish."

Sigyn chortled with a sad sigh. "I know your voice as well as my own and know when there is more to the story. What is the real reason? I'll not tell a soul."

Loki looked at her with pained eyes. "I'm not truly king," he whispered, shame scalding his cheeks. "Not unless Odin dies or unless he crowns me." His hands gripped her tightly. "And he will never crown me."

"So Thor is gone until Odin bids him back," Sigyn whispered uncomfortably. She gently pulled out of Loki's grasp. "Then it is only logical that things will fall to you."

"Fall?" he queried crossly.

"Flow? Follow? What is the word that would be right?" Sigyn asked lightly. "You have succeeded Odin—is that better?"

Loki laughed darkly. "I suppose." He tried to shrug. "And you have not said what everyone else is saying, so I suppose I am grateful for small mercies."

"Oh? What is it that everyone else is saying that troubles you so?"

"That I do not deserve this. That I betrayed Thor and led the Frost Giants here. That I am a traitor." His words were ground out.

"Then they are fools," Sigyn judged harshly. She shook her head angrily. "Why in Odin's name would you do any of that?" She barked out a harsh laugh herself. "I would rather you be concerned with the Frost Giants than the prattling of ninnies."

Loki looked at Sigyn carefully, circling her in her chair and going to sit in a neighboring one. Sigyn's back was rigid with fury, her brow creased in thought and her hands tightly gripping the cane someone had given her and the upholstered arm of the chair. Every muscle in her face screamed to him of fury—barely contained, deadly fury.

He frowned and studied her silently, wondering if this was the gentle creature he had married. "And why-" he asked silkily. "-would I need to worry with Frost Giants?"

"They killed Narvi," she hissed, almost shaking with grief and fury. "They have broken the treaty with Asgard and deserve nothing better than to die in fire and fury."

Loki could not hide his astonishment. Where was the gentle princess that all of Asgard adored? Where was the lighthearted wench who had brought Thor and Odin to her side? He scowled, glad not one other soul could _see_ his surprise. "You are grieving," Loki surmised. "You do not know what you are saying..."

"I know what I am saying," she insisted sharply. "I am saying they should pay for what they did." She waved her hand stiffly. "If Thor could not do the job, then it falls to someone who can." She swallowed heavily. "I am grieving, yes. But I know that Gwyll and Boyar and Jonathan grieve as well. I know that Royce grieved the loss of his brother at their hands. Others grieve."

Loki sighed deeply, his head beginning to pound strangely. "I agree that they are a threat, but I also know that I should not start a war that cannot be finished. It would not serve any of you if they win."

Sigyn thoughtfully considered his words, then nodded stiffly. "As you say." She gripped the chair and cane tightly. "If it will not grieve you, then I will visit with Frigga today and then rest."

"As you wish," Loki nodded with his head still aching.

"Then, if I am able, I will resume the audiences on the morrow."

Loki looked at her with surprise. "Are you sure that is a wise thing? Remember what happened last time..."

Sigyn sagged into her chair with a shuddering sigh. "Indeed I do remember. I'm not mad." Then she straightened again. "But they win if I cannot face them. If I do not appear, then every word becomes closer and closer to real to them without respect to the actual truth." She shrugged. "And I will not let such vicious things grow in Asgard." She smiled at him, though it was a carefully polished smile rather than a genuine warm one. "Nor will I let anyone say that I am moving against you."

Loki laughed then. His daft, lovely Sigyn was still in that womanly frame somewhere, even if she was so wrapped up in her grief she couldn't think straight. The thought that anyone would say that she would move against him was so darkly amusing. Didn't she realize that everyone would ask 'what took her so long' instead?

"So you will make your rulings without me?" he queried in a silky voice.

"Hardly," she replied in a tart, angry voice. "That is your job." She shrugged a little. "I don't know what I'll do. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be doing. You're king—or as close as you can be right now—and Frigga is Queen. So where does that leave me?" she questioned softly.

Loki reached out to her hand. "It leaves you with me." He tried to shrug. "The one-who-should-not-ever-have-been-king."

Sigyn did laugh at that—warmly and long. "And what fool said that?"

Loki chuckled softly. With a heavy sigh, he grimaced. "You should be resting."

"Then you will need to stay and make sure," she smiled serenely. "I am prone to wandering. From time to time."

"Sigyn!" he said, his voice sharp with warning and yet warm with dark humor.

"In my sleep, of course," she pouted. Still, her hands wrapped tightly around the cane—knuckles white with her fury. "I will not disobey..."

Loki rolled his eyes. "I will stay for a bit, but there is much to be done."

She nodded, her shoulders slumping sadly. "Lead me on."

It was scarcely an hour later when a timid knock sounded on the door. Loki blinked in confusion—he had meant to stay only as long as Sigyn was awake and leave when she finally slept, but the bed had been so comfortable he had dozed off. At least, he thought he had dozed off—his mind had been alive with voices and faces, all praying for aid and assistance. Some he recognized as Asgardian, one or two were Vanheimers, but others were weirdly dressed folk that reminded him of Midgard in their peculiar speech and dress.

Shrugging out of the blankets and Sigyn's embrace, he sauntered to the door. The maid looked up at him in shock—her little mouth gaping. "My...oh...I mean, Your Majesty," she curtseyed. "I was told to fetch the princess for supper."

Loki scowled and only vaguely remembered giving the order. "Yes—we will come down. Give us some time and we will be there." The maid curtseyed again and raced down the hall, her skirts flapping. Loki closed the door softly, grimacing as a slight headache began to form again.

Sigyn stirred and whispered, "Locca...who was there?"

"Locca?" he smirked.

Sigyn yawned widely and sat up. "I was having a pleasant dream of being on the island again until someone knocked on the door and someone else got up to answer it."

"We must go to supper," he said softly.

She sighed and pursed her lips. "I believe that everything has been moved here, but if you could help me find a dress and shoes, I would be grateful."

Together, they limped through the apartment and got dressed. Each ached in heart and mind and body and they leaned often on each other for help. With only the most necessary words, they got ready and Loki led Sigyn down to the dining hall.

The steward stopped them and led them round to the entrance that Odin had favored as his own. With nervous little tics in his face and twitches of his hands, he signaled the guards and footmen to introduce them. Loki whispered softly to Sigyn, and she nodded but said nothing as they were led in as King and Queen.

Unlike every other time, everyone stood, waiting on him to come and sit to start the meal. Loki's mind boggled—most every other time he had used the smaller entrance with Thor and no one stood—waiting on his every move. At worst, he had to listen to everyone cheer Thor for only a few moments before moving to his place. His head ached more and he tried to remember what Odin had done to get everyone moving and to quit staring at him.

Finally, he remembered. He waved his free hand and said, "Let us sit."

Gratefully, the entire assembled court sat. Maids and servants began filling cups and breaking bread and setting out salt cellars. The nervous, skinny cook came forward with a bow and four stout men holding a huge wooden platter with a suckling pig on it.

Loki stared at him, impatient to simply be served and get it over with already. At least Sigyn had moved with him and now sat patiently as well. Damn, sometimes it was hard enough to keep track of her without keeping track of the zillion other things in the empire.

"Y-y-your Majesty," the cook said. "And Your Highness...that is to say...I mean, Your..."

"Yes?" Loki interrupted.

"Will you open the feast?" he bit out.

Loki sighed deeply and tried to sort his thoughts out. As the closest thing to King present, he was required to start the feast by welcoming the guests with a short speech and then a toast to their health. He would then be served the first portions of each dish and everyone would watch to see his satisfaction before serving it to the rest of the guests.

Truthfully, he was more concerned with who knew precisely what of the day's events. And, if he were completely honest with himself, he didn't remember exactly who had been invited and had attended.

Drat and double drat. Plus a few more foul words.

Finally, he took up his cup. "Friends and allies of Asgard," he said. "I welcome you all and thank your for your presence on what was supposed to be a most joyous day." Thankfully, no one seemed willing to denounce him or name him traitor to his face at his own feast. Everyone dutifully picked up their goblets and waited and watched him. "I hope that you will all still enjoy the hospitality we can offer." He raised his glass. "A toast to each of you—good health, long life and safe travels."

He took a deep swallow of the wine, gratified as everyone drank in response.

The nervous cook smiled stiffly. "Will...Her Majesty...I mean, the Queen Mother, attend as well?" It would have been a tremendous insult to her if they had not waited for Frigga and she was attending.

Loki shook his head. "She will need a platter taken to her apartments."

"V-very good, Sire," he said bowing again. He took out an immense knife and sliced a bit of the pork. "This is roasted suckling pig with rosemary, sage and apples and served with a pink garlic sauce and fresh greens."

A tiny portion was put on Loki's plate and he sampled it. It tasted like sawdust and made his stomach churn—or was it this damnable headache causing it? It was only hearing Sigyn's stomach churn as well that pricked his humor enough to allow him to continue. "It is...acceptable," he nodded.

The little cook smiled broadly. Thor had been easily pleased with the feasting menu—course upon course of roasted meats with potatoes, bread, and cheeses and then two courses of sweets. Mead, beer and ale were to be served throughout. That Thor was not there—some had said he was banished—and Loki was now the apparent ruler, he had fumbled to make the feast acceptable.

The servants had taken one whole course—a huge roasted ram with mint and garlic and rosemary—and substituted the lighter course of artichoke, spinach, egg and cheese pies. Wines had been hurriedly paired with the courses and they had raced to prepare cherry pastries, rather than the thick custards originally planned. It was the entire kitchen staff's job to make the feast a delight for the senses and to please and tempt the King of Asgard—a sign of their respect and loyalty. There were all manner of stories of rulers—lords and dames and princes—who had punished the kitchen staff for improperly prepared meals. There were equal number of stories of cooks and chefs being richly rewarded for their good work.

Sigyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Shouldn't Frigga be here?" she whispered.

"She is with Odin," Loki said in a low voice, frowning.

"I see," she nodded. "I had not thought of that." She fidgeted again. "How long will I be required? I find that I am very sore and would like nothing more than to eat and to bathe and to return to my bed."

"It is late," Loki nodded, his voice still low. "I...think it will be understandable if you wish to leave after a few courses. But this is actually supposed to be Thor's feast—so it is probably going to go on for quite some time."

She nodded and sipped the water someone had put at her place. "I think that I will." She sighed. "It seems...strange, somehow, doesn't it?"

Loki swallowed and smiled at her. "And here I was thinking how well this suited us..."

She laughed a little. "As you say."

The courses were presented, one after the other, and even Loki began to weary of them all. He was granted a small portion—thankfully only a small portion—of each and as King—even if it was king-in-waiting—he had to at least taste each one. Sigyn was able to wave some of the food away—her stomach still sore and testy. The little cherry pastries were delightful, though—and he enjoyed signaling for a second portion of them. Surprisingly, even Sigyn tasted and enjoyed them—despite giving up eating another bite some three courses ago.

Sigyn yawned behind her hand. "When will we escape?"

"Out the window and down to the walkway?" Loki offered a little breathlessly.

"Change us into birds and we can be gone," she parried lightly.

"That would give all of Asgard something to talk about," he chuckled.

Another voice intruded. "Your Majesty," said one of the visitors from Vanheim. "We would like a word with you regarding the taxes and tariffs."

Loki grimaced and patted Sigyn's hand. "To be continued, my dear," he smirked. Then, in a slightly louder voice, he added, "My wife has...lost our first child and I would excuse her first." The visitors smiled and bowed as Sigyn rose and Loki summoned someone to help her to their temporary apartments. In a slow and stately pace, she kissed his cheek and left.

Then all eyes turned to him. For a moment, it reminded him of Midgard piranhas or some kind of dread pack of wild dogs with all of their attention on their prey. He nodded and stood and began to mill around, addressing concerns and speaking with them.

Just as Odin had expected him to do.

Duty was an evil thing, though. He had not been allowed to even approach the family hallways—there was always one more petition. He was thankful to have found some previously unknown reserve or wellspring of energy to address everyone—it seemed that kings had full dockets of duties to perform. Then it was breakfast again and the whole, pointless ceremony continued—opening the feast, welcoming the guests and so on.

Yet—still, despite being awake for better than a day, he could not rest. He could not sleep. And he could not get away from the people. People wanting this or that. Some few managed to offer congratulations (sycophants) or condolences. The healers that had been at the palace after the attack were welcomed and had to be paid. Heimdall managed to briefly appear and only nod his acceptance of Loki's rule. Loki felt his skin crawl as another group crowded around him—yet more people trying to get a piece of him. Thankfully, Sigyn had begun addressing the peasantry's concerns at the tenth bell and the crowd had thinned out somewhat, but there still seemed to be more.

And still he could not sleep.

Sigyn spent her entire morning, listening to the needs and complaints of many during her audiences. Loki had not been back to their apartments and she missed him. At least Sif had appeared and now sat with her as she listened and offered help and judgments that she could. Many were concerned and sought reassurance—having heard of the little baby's loss. Others were calling for retribution—demanding that the King gather troops and start preparing for war. At least some were asking after Odin and Frigga and for news of Thor—of which there wasn't much.

At mid-afternoon, she and Sif stood stiffly and dismissed the audiences.

"You should be resting," Sif observed.

"I suppose," Sigyn shrugged. "But I would visit with Frigga first." She raised her hand. "Then I will make you and Loki happy and rest."

Sif chuckled dryly. If she were not married to Loki of all people—Sigyn would be curiously and completely likeable. Taking Sigyn's hand, she led the way through to the family wing.

The guards smiled at them as they approached. Sif smiled back, and then remembered that Sigyn could not see their welcoming faces. Duty demanded that they stand at their posts—on their guard. Pulling on her hand, Sif guided her around the larger one on the left and to the door.

Sigyn tensed as she felt the doorway brush the fingertips. Straightening, she asked, "Are we there?"

"Her Majesty is expecting you," said one guard. "Please go in." He turned enough to push open the door.

Sif chuckled a bit. "She could not see you, Bjorn," she explained.

Sigyn smirked—remembering the long ago pretend with Loki. Strangely, this big fellow was not at all smelly or anything—just big, if his voice was any indication. "I will be only a few minutes," she said to Sif.

"Will you require aid when you leave?"Bjorn asked Sigyn seriously.

"I think that I know the way from here," she said softly. "But I am thankful for your kindness."

Sif led Sigyn into the great, golden room. It was unsettling to have the room so devoid of people and to be so silent. She could not remember ever having seen either the King or the Queen without a gaggle of maids, servants, toadies, lackeys, knights, guards or petitioners surrounding them. Truthfully, it clenched her stomach to see Odin laid out on his bier, deep in the Odinsleep. It was said—whispered—that he could still see all and hear all, but simply could not respond. That was Sif's worst nightmare—the stillness as the world moved in and out and her unable to respond.

Still, Frigga sat with him, talking and reading to him. Judging from the book in her lap, she was reading epic poems of his father, Bor, and the battles with the dark elves.

"Sif, Sigyn—how lovely to see you," Frigga smiled at them.

Sif bowed in respect, though if she were honest with herself, it was more to allow her eyes to dart away from the prone form of the Allfather. "I was asked to stay with the princess during the audiences today and she asked me to escort her here before she rested."

Sigyn smiled, listening to the stillness in the room. After the noise of the feasts and meals and the audiences, the silence was truly deafening. "If you do not mind, I should like to keep you company for a while."

"I would not mind the company," Frigga smiled. "We were just reading of Bor's final battle against Malekith." She gestured to a nearby collection of chairs. "Sif, could you please bring a chair over for Sigyn?"

Sif brought the heavy chair over to the golden bed and guided Sigyn into it. Sigyn muttered her thanks as she settled into the deeply padded seat. With a glorious smile, she sighed in relief at the deep cushions.

"Would you care to sit with us Sif?" Frigga asked, paging through her book.

"I need to go to the training yards," Sif replied evenly.

"Of course," Frigga nodded. "Perhaps you will visit some other time..."

"Lady Sif," Sigyn called. "I should like to extend my thanks for all that you've done today."

"It was nothing," Sif said modestly.

"It did not feel like nothing to me," Sigyn protested with a smile. "I was glad to have a friend on hand." She shook her head slightly with a smile. "If nothing else, you helped me to avoid dropping things."

Frigga's eyes brightened with curiosity. "Oh?"

"Several merchants from Vanheim gave Sigyn flowers and gifts," Sif explained.

"And I almost fell over—what was that again?"

"A clarion." Sif answered.

Frigga nodded in understanding. "It was most likely Tre-iem's—the head of the weaver's guild on Vanheim. He takes it with him everywhere he goes and it almost invariably gets into trouble." She stuck a finger into her book and closed it. "It looks something like a cross between a weasel and a cat but it has two bushy tails like a fox."

"For some reason," Sigyn sniffed. "It found my shoes very interesting and was determined to get under my skirts."

Frigga sighed in mock exasperation. "Yes—that would be Loaa. He's an all black  
clarion with a penchant for laces."

Sif chuckled. "And trouble." She bowed to the royalty. "However, if I am to train, I must hurry."

"Of course, Sif," Frigga nodded. "My thanks."

"Thank you again," Sigyn added.

Sif turned to leave, almost running into a hurried maid with a platter for the Queen. Dodging the platter, she left to return to her chambers and make ready for her trip to the training yards where she would meet her friends.

Frigga nodded at the servant and picked up the cup to take a grateful sip of water. "So you are attending the audiences?"

Sigyn nodded. "It is an exhausting thing, though."

"We have always been glad to have two sons so that they could share the audience duties," Frigga said thoughtfully.

"I went through only a half day today," Sigyn said thoughtfully. "I'm afraid that I have let Loki down as I could not stand more."

Frigga snorted—a most unladylike sound. "That you dared do it at all astounds me. I rested a full week after Thor was born before returning to my duties and I didn't have to handle the audiences for a full month afterwards." Sigyn made a soft, sad sound. "Oh, I'm sorry, my dear. I did not mean to distress you."

"I...I had meant to get my mind off of it all. To forget for a time." She shuddered. "I am...furious and I cannot get away from it."

Frigga frowned and thought for a moment, uncertain of what Loki had revealed to her. Had he dared to raise her hopes that Narvi might yet live—that Laughey might be sparing him as they had spared Loki? "What does Loki propose to do?"

"I don't know," Sigyn admitted in gritty voice. "I have not seen him all day." She shrugged. "I believe that he has already tried to go there to try reasoning with them..."

Frigga raised an eyebrow. "Indeed?" She frowned, deep in thought. She could see Loki trying to flatter or cajole and Thor trying to fight, but somehow she thought that Odin might have been the one to try reasoning. Instead of trying to explain, she changed the subject. "Have you tried the throne room? 'Tis where Odin was most often..."

Sigyn sighed. "I will try there next." She stood and sighed. "I regret that I am not better company today. I am still aching and I miss Loki. Did you know that he did not even come to bed last night?"

Frigga smirked a little. "That is the price of the throne, I think. There have been many days that Odin did not make it to our chambers here before the next day dawned." She stood and reached out to the other woman. "It is not personal, I think. Nor is it a matter of Loki wandering-"

"Never!" Sigyn hissed.

Frigga smiled. "As you say—never," she nodded. "I think he is simply trying to step into his brother's and father's shoes."

Sigyn thought for a moment. "I will try the throne room, I suppose. If I can get close to it."

"If not, I can send a message summoning him here," Frigga offered impishly. "It would not go ignored if I did it."

"Perhaps I will," Sigyn nodded. "But I think that I will rest a bit first. My mind is a muddle... Good day, Mother."

Sigyn felt her way out of the chambers and exited with a calm she did not feel. Sliding down the hallway, she pondered her choices and options. There was so little time and so much to do here. Yet, how was she to raise an attack to get Narvi back? She felt that he was still alive—somehow she just knew in her gut it was so.

She climbed the stairs, wondering what to do. Frigga might have been helpful, but she was rightfully concerned with Odin and his welfare. Thor was banished. Loki was apparently busy. Truthfully, there was no one else that she could name that she could go to and speak freely.

"Your Highness, may we have a word?" Fandral's voice was smooth like cream.

Sigyn stopped, listening. There were several salons and sitting chambers on the second floor in this wing—even a gaming room with dice and cards and such—and a mix of heavy and light footsteps approached her in the empty hallway.

"Yes?" she asked archly.

"My lady," Fandral continued with a bow. Even if she could not precisely see the bow, it seemed the gentlemanly thing to do to show respect for her rank. Even if her rank came from a marriage to Loki. "We would like a word with you..."

"We?" she queried.

"My companions and I." Fandral flushed and explained. "We met some time ago—on the island. I am Fandral. My friends are Volstagg and Hogun—who you know. And the Lady Sif."

"I see," Sigyn said. She sighed for a moment, wanting to only be in her bed. With Loki. "So what can I do for you?"

"We would like for you to ask Loki to help us," Fandral answered with a grin. "Lovely, lady—can we count on your aid?"

Sigyn frowned, her hands gripping the cane fiercely. "Why cannot you ask for yourselves?"

"He will not receive us," Fandral replied with a softly plaintive note in his voice.

"Oh? Why not?"

Fandral swallowed—the why's and wherefore's being the sticky part of this business. "We would like Loki to rescind Odin's order and bring Thor back." He looked at his friends for inspiration. "We have asked for him to help us and he dismissed us saying that he could not undo what the Allfather had done."

"Then I am supposed to convince him otherwise?" Sigyn guessed.

"My lady—I believe that you could convince the stars to move did it please you," Fandral flattered as Sif rolled her eyes.

"I-I do not think that you understand fully the position Loki is in," Sigyn said carefully.

"At least ask him to open the Bifrost," Volstagg protested. "We will fetch Thor ourselves..."

"You want to openly rebel against the throne?" Sigyn asked softly, her brow furrowing.

Hogun grunted. "No—only the one on it."

Sigyn chuckled angrily. "You want me to convince Loki that he should either try to go against the orders of the Allfather and bring back Thor. Failing that, you want me to get him to open the Bifrost to you so that you can bring back Thor. And then once Thor is here—you want him to supplant Loki's position?" She shook her head. "Is that about right?"

Sif snapped, "Thor is the one the Allfather chose. Surely you can see the justice of that?" She ran a hand through her hair and flicked it angrily. "You are the one who said it was neither right nor just that the brothers should be separated—weren't you?"

Sigyn flushed. "Indeed," she nodded. "However—have any of you asked why the Allfather wanted them to separate like this?"

The Warriors Three and Sif looked at each other. Sif tried to explain, "We...we did not ask as there was not time before the Odinsleep befell him. We were tending Volstagg's wounds when Thor was banished."

"And the Allfather collapsed on the spot?" Sigyn asked.

"No...," Fandral answered. "Some time later, he was with Loki in the weapon's vault and it was there that he collapsed."

"So no one has asked, why? Asked if there was some grand scheme afoot?" Sigyn's hands looked like they were throttling her cane.

"We went to Jotenheim to bring back Narvi!" Sif all but shouted. "It was for you that Thor even ventured there."

"Was it?" Sigyn snapped back. "Or was it that he wanted vengeance on the attack during his coronation?" No one answered. Sigyn shook her head. "And tell me—have any of you asked whether or not Thor wants to come back?"

"Of course he wants to come back," Fandral protested, but his voice faltered for a moment of indecision. "He is the crown prince..." Fandral looked at his friends. "We're his friends—and we miss him."

"I miss him too," Sigyn whispered. "However, I find that rebellion is a poor way to show one's affection. Would Thor truly want his friends to rebel against the throne or would he want them to help his brother in any way that they could—especially against the Frost Giants?"

"Will you help us?" Sif asked softly.

"I cannot," Sigyn replied evenly. "However, it is not because I would not like Thor back. It is because I cannot find Loki to begin with." She shrugged. "I have not seen him in over a day—not since the feast."

"Will you at least ask him?" Volstagg pressed.

"I will tell him of your concerns when I see him," Sigyn said. "However, I will not go against his will—nor will I try to force him to do what he does not believe is right."

Sif pouted, glaring at the other woman. "At least—the Bifrost..."

Sigyn nodded. "I do not believe that if the Bifrost is closed now, it will be for long. The damage to trade and negotiations would be unthinkable. Loki knows that."

"We will...try to be patient then," Sif said. Hogun looked at her with surprise and Fandral looked ready to speak but she waved to shush them. It seemed obvious that they would garner no support from here. But she was willing to bet that Sigyn's sense of truth and duty would eventually force her to see things their way.

"One thing that I would ask you to think about," Sigyn said in a small voice. "If Loki weren't here and on the throne—which of you would you each choose to handle things while the Allfather sleeps?"

None of the Warriors Three had an answer. Even Sif looked surprised and then thoughtful. Finally, Sif said softly, "There is Baldur. Perhaps Tyr..." She frowned, considering the god of war. "Or...perhaps not."

"But no one you like as much as Thor?" Sigyn asked innocently.

"No...of course not anyone like Thor," Sif admitted without thinking.

Sigyn smiled. "And would you plot so against...Baldur? Tyr?" She smirked almost angrily. "Should I speak of this conversation to anyone else? After all, they might be angry to know that should the worst happen..." Her voice trailed off malevolently.

Volstagg glared at her angrily. Sif glanced at Fandral and saw his high cheeks flush with an angry hue. Even Hogun seemed furious.

Sigyn sighed and shook her head sadly. "I grieve for you all. You have lost a friend and a brother at arms—someone near and dear to you. You have lost a boyhood companion to rumors and speech of treachery. We have all lost a much loved King and Queen." She shook herself. "We have had...many losses. Perhaps we are overwhelmed and each unable to think clearly..." She made a sad gesture with her hands. "I am at a loss as well—my son is lost to me, my husband has not been seen, my King is in the Odinsleep and my Queen and closest friend is grieving all these things and we cannot ask more of her.

"I had hoped that we were each...if not friends, then at least friendly. I had hoped that I was not alone here and hoped, despite everything, that I would be counted among your allies." She sighed heavily. "If this is not so, I appreciate knowing now, I suppose, rather than wondering for years upon years.

"I regret that I cannot aid you—that I have no way to help you. Without Loki, I have nothing more than the clothes on my back and precious little that I am able to do to help myself or others.

"But I think that you are forgetting that Thor is likely finding his way back even as we speak here. This is _Thor_ we speak of—not a lost soul wandering the realms, not a helpless babe, and not one to give up. If he truly desires to return, then I believe that he will find the will and the way to do so. And I believe that the Allfather has left a path for him to return—a way for Thor to come back to us—because the Allfather does not abandon even the lowest of his people to the whims of the winds of fate, much less his own favored son."

Sif looked at the other woman curiously. "Do you truly believe that?" Sigyn nodded, swallowing heavily. "Do you think...he will forget about us?"

Sigyn smiled softly. "I do not think that he would forget all that he loved and held so dear. This is Thor, after all." She shrugged and seemed to think deeply for a moment. "I should like to rest for an hour or two and then go on a walkabout."

Sif patted Volstagg's great shoulders as he puffed angrily. "Where are you going?"

"I should like to learn more about the Frost Giants," Sigyn said simply.

"We could tell you much," Fandral grinned, giving his friends a wink. "If you could spare the time."

Sigyn nodded. "I have nothing else to do." She frowned. "But the information that I want is...specialized."

Hogun only arched an eyebrow. "Let us go into the gaming room."

Everyone sat in the gaming room. Sigyn sat uneasily at the chessboard and gingerly reached out to feel the carved pieces. With a sad sigh, she picked up the white knight and cradled it in her palm.

"What do you want to know about Frost Giants?" Sif said, softly closing the door behind them.

"How they die," Sigyn said with an amazingly soft, even voice.

Everyone sucked in a breath, amazed at the cold-blooded remark. Hogun recovered first and nodded. "Narvi."

"Yes," Sigyn replied. "Narvi."

"He...he may yet live," Fandral offered lamely. "Thor said that he had not gone after Narvi immediately because Odin had said that Laughey would not kill him."

"He may live," Sigyn agreed amiably. "But in what condition, we do not know. Would he be better dead and go safely to Hel?" She shrugged. "I do not know, but I do want them to pay dearly for their attacks."

"You are desperate," Sif snorted.

"I have lost my friends, my child, my animals, and my home. They have made me very desperate."

"What do you propose?" Hogun grunted. "We can't march in without Thor and Loki has closed the Bifrost."

Sigyn seemed to think for a moment. "Tell me...what is the Bifrost?"

"It is a gateway between the realms," Fandral said.

"How?"

The Warriors Three shrugged lamely and Fandral answered, "We don't know all of the mechanics, but once Heimdall sets the sword down and thinks the destination for the beam, it draws energy, collects it and then shoots it to the destination. The energy takes the objects and people with it—turning them into energy for a brief time before restoring them on the other side."

"An explosion then?"

"Yes, there is an explosion—there can be tremendous damage... But Heimdall prevents anyone from misusing the Bifrost."

"Heimdall?"

"Sif's brother. He guards the Bifrost and makes sure that he lets no danger into the realm." Fandral explained wearily. "He sees everything."

"Everything?" Sigyn smirked a little, her cheeks unknowingly flushing. "I wonder..." She thought deeply for some time. "I should like to meet this paragon..."

"You are going to open the Bifrost yourself?" Volstagg gaped.

"No—I cannot. Or, at least, I don't think that I can—I don't know. I only go to meet the guardian of the realm. Perhaps he can see if Narvi still lives." She shrugged. "I suppose it does not hurt anyone to ask the questions..."

"Of course," Fandral smiled. "He would—if anyone could." He swept up to his feet. "Allow us to escort you, dear lady."

The group moved through the palace, speaking of nothing worthwhile. Several times, they had to pause for Sigyn to rest—despite the healing salves and potions, she still ached and was weary—but they still made their way.

"Loki has been a bad influence on you, Highness." Heimdall greeted them at the doorway. "You seek to do mischief, princess."

"I do not," she protested with a teasing smile.

"I see all," he said with his deep voice, answering her unspoken question. "I saw Narvi on Jotenheim. I see Neoth there now—a Jotun baby."

Sigyn frowned, puzzling this over—Narvi...Noeth? "How did you not see the Giants as they came to Asgard?" she gritted out.

"I do not know save that magic could hide them from my sight." He shifted slightly. "I sent word as soon as I did see them, but by then the...giants had destroyed in the weapons vault and Narvi already taken."

"Do you see Thor now?"

Heimdall looked meaningfully at Sif—almost sadly. "I do see him. I see that he misses his friends. I see that...he has found some new ones."

"Do you see him returning?" Sif blurted.

"I do see the prince of Asgard returning," he nodded.

Sif opened her mouth to speak—the words on her tongue when a sudden thought occurred to her. "Loki," she whispered softly. Heimdall only smiled at her. "Where has he been?"

"He has ways of making himself invisible to my sight," Heimdall said.

"But you can hear him, can't you?" Sigyn whispered.

"I can hear much, my lady."

"Can you hear Jotenheim?"

"I hear a child crying on Jotenheim. I hear a grieving father whispering to Laughey, though I cannot see him." He cocked his head slightly, regarding them. "I think the princess may want to go to the throne room."

"What do we do now?" Volstagg asked. "We cannot be in two places at once and someone must keep an eye on Loki."

Sigyn sniffed delicately. "I need to return to the palace if Loki is there. Perhaps I can soothe him..."

Sif snorted as guards appeared—rather too conveniently—to escort the princess back to the palace. Carefully, they guided her to a waiting craft and onto a soft cushion. Without much fanfare, they whisked her back to the palace, pressing her with refreshments. "You did that."

"Of course. I saw you coming."

Sif snorted again, walking to the door as she saw the craft fleeing down the rainbow bridge. "Can you see the future?"

"I can see much, Sister," he answered carefully.

"What is this that has been wrought?"

Heimdall seemed to think for a moment, and then replied evenly, "Even if I could and would see it and tell you, it would do nothing but confuse matters. For if what I predicted came to pass, would it be because my very words forced you down a path? If I predicted some ill tiding, and you changed some slight choice, some slight step, would you curse me if the ill tiding came to pass?"

"Do you see ill tidings?" Fandral asked slowly, watching as the craft down the rainbow bridge veered upward to the palace.

"I see much," Heimdall repeated. "I see joy and sorrow. I see friends leaving and friends returning—and new friendships blossoming."

"What of his 'new friends' on Midgard?" Sif asked quickly.

"He will not forget about you," Heimdall murmured softly. "This is Thor, after all."

Volstagg and Fandral chuckled softly. "It seems that we have heard those words before."

"Indeed," Heimdall said. "And she was wise to remind you. You would be wise to remember all that she has told you before."

"Why?" Hogun grunted.

"We are never guaranteed forever," Heimdall said. "We are not even the next day. The next hour. The next breath."

"Is she in danger?" Volstagg glared.

Heimdall sighed—almost sadly. "Not from among you. But her path is not smoothly paved and easily walked."

Sif rolled her eyes. Vexing creature her brother was—knowing so much and saying just enough to make one think so deeply that one could get lost in the shades of meaning. "Who is coming that would put her in danger?"

Heimdall only smiled. "I do not think that of all the possibilities that I see..." He paused dramatically. Vexing man. "You want the answer to that."

Sigyn was hurried through the palace with her escort. Grimacing, she sat gingerly down on a the first chair she was led to—and be damned the protocols and endless rules of precedence. The majority of the guards melted away from her, with only two still in close attendance as she waited. One of them—a younger lad who had brought her a horn of cool water and a package of honey cakes—tilted slightly closer to her and whispered, "He'll be back soon."

"Oh?" Sigyn asked. "Where are we?"

"The antechamber to the throne room," the other one replied. "If he does not use his sorcery, then he will have to come through here."

"Oh." Sigyn swallowed heavily.

"Sigyn!" greeted Loki as he came through the room. "Where have you been?"

"I have been visiting Heimdall and touring," she answered with a smile as his hand gingerly helped her up.

"Oh dear," Loki mocked gently, though through gritted teeth. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all," Sigyn smiled and shrugged. "Sif was speaking of him and since you were...busy, I thought only to pass a few hours before seeking you out. Again."

Loki had the grace to blush. He cleared his throat and said, "You should still be resting. You surely cannot have healed after such...agony."

Sigyn sighed. "I suppose—but I was too restless." She cuddled close to him. "So am I to share you again with Asgard, or will I have you all to myself for a time?"

"Ahh, my little dove," he smirked, leading her down a hallway and waving dismissal to the guards. "You are tempting..."

"Is that a yes?"

"It is a regrettable—delay," Loki clarified. "I have an...important guest coming and must be ready to receive him."

"Oh." Sigyn sighed deeply. "Could I go with you?"

"I would not ask it of you," he explained hesitantly as he led them down the hall and up the stairs to the apartment they shared. "You did the audiences today and have been all over Asgard. I must have you rest and then at supper, I will make excuses and come to see you."

"All night?" Sigyn smiled.

"If all goes well, then, yes, it will be all night." He giggled. "Although if it goes very well, I might be insufferably...attentive." He frowned. "However, you must rest and I would not have you stir from here until supper."

"But Loki-" she protested.

Loki waved his hand in an arcane fashion and the windows each locked. "There has been too much chaos, my love. I would not risk you or your health."

"Loki," she frowned. "I should tell you something..."

"Oh?" he smirked.

"I asked Heimdall about...about Narvi." She wrung her hands. "He kept saying that there was a babe on Jotenheim—a baby named Noeth."

Loki gritted his teeth. "And what do I care about a Joten baby?"

"Could they have spared Narvi? Is there magic to make him Joten to hide him from you?"

Loki almost growled. "You should sleep." He jerked down the covers to the immense bed and pushed her down on the mattress. "Heimdall likes riddles."

"Then it is true," Sigyn whispered in amazement. "My son..." She sat up and wrapped her arms quickly around him. "You can save him."

"I cannot," Loki snapped angrily. His head had begun pounding again and the voices he swore he heard begging him for favors and assistance were louder. "I will not bring a Joten here—no matter what."

He gestured sharply and Sigyn felt the force of his magic press her down on the mattress. Another jolting gesture, and he forced her into a magical sleep.

What of his next child? A child that would be nurtured and carefully tended in her womb and then be killed by the "well-meaning" souls who feared the Joten even though they had walked side-by-side with him, fought with him, prospered under his direction and sought his wisdom and advice.

_"__Never again, my love."_He made his vow silently, and watched the night sky from her small balcony. _"As long as I am king—or king to be—no one will dare to take my child, nor harm you."_

The rainbow bridge glittered like a thin thread of starlight. He spoke to her, even though he doubted that she would hear him. _"I will not let them take another child." _He saw the thin line of the Bifrost shoot across the sky. Distantly, he wondered what had taken them so long to plot their treason. Whirling, he turned towards her. _"Tonight it will end forever and no one will stand in my way."_

As he passed her on the bed and turn to teleport to the weapons vault, he swore he felt some tickle—as though prickles of magic were swirling elsewhere.

Sigyn woke swiftly, feeling dazed and confused. Loki was—of course—not around her. Damn the man. She staggered to the doorway where a guard looked at her in shock. "Take me to Heimdall. I need to speak with him about Loki."

"But...the king said-"

"I need to speak with Heimdall." She turned up her face and would have been glaring down her nose at him had she eyes. "Take me immediately."

"Y-yes, my lady," he stammered.

She frowned. "And, if at all possible, not over the bridge. It is too—exposed." Her voice dripped venom.

"Of course, my lady," he said. "There is a transport just at the end of the hallway."

Thank the good stars. Sigyn thought, realizing it could only be the transport she had just taken. Belatedly, she realized that her wild magic had somehow protected her from whatever spell Loki had cast to force her to sleep. She should really learn more about it—if there was time.

Loki stopped in the weapons vault to take the Casket with him and hide it under his cloak. It responded to him—the top glowing and opening a fraction—and spilling out a blue light. He wrapped it in a secret pocket in his cloak to hide the light. Undoubtedly Heimdall would try to stop him. Perhaps he should get help?

No. He reconsidered quickly as he glanced at the huge grating hiding the Destroyer. Thor would destroy him as a Joten. Thor would destroy his son—if this Noeth was, in fact, his son—and any child Sigyn bore from him. If Thor managed to scrape together enough pity, he might spare Sigyn—but not likely.

After all, if the positions were reversed, he'd do the same.

Loki stood in front of the dark black grate with Gungir in hand. He almost smiled sadly. He told himself he had only been having a lark—he had wanted to see what it was to have Father and Mother's approval. To see what it was to be Thor. And it was good—___very good_—to be Thor. People approved of you. People toasted to your health and smiled and nodded at you and—damnable headaches and voices aside—people looked to you for wisdom and guidance.

Thor returning—and he was on his way if his friends were already on the Bifrost and traveling to Midgard—would wreck everything. Oh, Odin would eventually forgive him his folly—maybe even allow him to stay, though there would be a period of punishments. But Thor—Thor would never let him forget it and would never let the people of Asgard forget that he was not even the son of Odin.

So it became an easy decision to release the Destroyer. "Destroy everything," he commanded. The great monster had no voice—didn't even nod—but some feeling, some slight flicker seemed to say that he was understood and to be obeyed.

Now, all he needed was the Bifrost. Then he could sit easily on the throne, and await the Joten as they marched directly into his plans and to their own doom.

Sigyn grew frustrated as they made their way down to the craft—having to stop and wait and wind around hallways to go to the craft. She sat, wrapped in a hastily borrowed guard's cloak with the hood pulled over her head, waiting for it to be refueled. Then there was some gathering—she honestly didn't care about what—and she chaffed at the delays as the guard had to herd them away. Some few threw flowers and called her name though they did not know she was there among them, toasting to her health in parties at homes or in taverns. It made her head ache as she heard the tavern keeper shouting his good wishes to no one in particular.

This was the street she had begged on. This is where she had tumbled into Loki's life. It felt—ominous and strange—as though she were remembering a different life. Her stomach rumbled uncertainly as though it was remembering being empty and she grew lightheaded for a moment.

Loki heard his brother's voice—above all the voices and demands in his head. He heard his brother beg for forgiveness. For mercy and to let his friends go.

It was good to be Thor. Odin would have crumpled then and let his son come back. Loki's mouth thinned. But then—Odin wasn't here. And the Joten were now waiting—as though they had ever known they would be led by him.

She didn't know what she intended to do. All right—that was a lie. She knew that she wanted to blow Laughey and his minions to whatever fate Hel had for them. Loki would not bring back her son—if he even lived—so he was as good as dead to them. Odin would not bring him back—especially if he were Jotun now. Thor would likely laugh at her. She had no power—no weapons. Sif and the rest of them were likely doing something else and in any case, what could a handful of Asgardians do against those brutes? They had already been all but killed once.

The Bifrost was immense power, though. She had only to beguile Heimdall away. Send him to sleep. Something to get it started. One of them had said something about setting the sword and thinking of the destination—that seemed simple enough. And the room had seemed entirely flat except for a dais she had brushed as she had been led inside.

Going around the back in the craft with her guard was so slow. She grit her teeth as they finally began the ascent to the glittering bridge to the little room.

She had been helped up to the rainbow bridge and the craft moored when she heard the guard gasp, staggering in alarm. "What is it?!" she demanded testily.

"Heimdall—he is frozen!" The guard hustled her back to the craft. "We must return to the palace!" He sat her down unceremoniously. "We will return the way we came to avoid anyone seeing us."

Sigyn was about to protest. Some word or something, but they were already beneath the bridge and darting starting to wind back when they heard a crack above them and a great battle cry. Ice shards rained down around them.

"Wait," Sigyn commanded the guard, who obeyed her without question.

The Bifrost opened again above them and then closed. The guard gaped from his place in the craft.

"Who has come?" Sigyn whispered.

"I don't know—" he admitted.

They waited, waited to see if friend or foe crossed the bridge.

"It's Thor! He is flying back to the palace above us even now." the guard cheered above the sound of the surf. "He's returned! And the Warriors Three and Sif have Heimdall." He heaved a sound of relief. "He has survived!"

"Blessed be," Sigyn said. "Hurry. Rise up and we will assist them."

The four were trying to get Heimdall's form down the road when Sigyn rose to the level of the bridge.

"My lady!" Fandral smiled. "You are well come!"

"Take the craft," Sigyn ordered. "We saw much from below and you need it more than I to get Heimdall to the healers."

"There is not room for all of us," Sif protested even as she shifted and began trudging to the craft.

"Of course not," Sigyn agreed placidly. "But I will stay behind." She heard the angry gasps. "We are under attack and the warriors need to be at the palace."

Sif flushed angrily and seemed about to say something, when Heimdall raised his head blearily. He coughed slightly and said to the others, "We will take the craft because it is Odin himself that is in danger." He smiled at the Sigyn, though she could not see it, and simply said, "I wish you a good journey, Princess."

That silenced any other protests and they all trudged to the craft, leaving Sigyn behind. She waved at them and said, "I will pull the sword so that none may follow you."

Sif smiled at her uncertainly and waved as the craft shot off down the rainbow bridge. The little form seemed to get smaller and smaller as though she was falling away from them. Heimdall coughed and the sound rattled in his chest and for a moment, she looked at him curiously. He only smiled softly and nodded to her.

"Hurry," she told the guard. "We must hurry."

Loki felt—elated.

There was smoke where before their most hated enemy had been. Mother was distraught, but gripping him as though he were the savior of the world. For a moment, his magic sought the comfort of knowing where Sigyn was.

And she was not there.

He frowned, trying to soothe his mother and find Sigyn. Surprisingly, she was calmly gripping the sword in the Bifrost and, with a slight frown—biting her lip as she did when she concentrated on something—she pulled down with all her might.

Then he heard Thor's boots coming down the hall—coming for him.

If Thor saw what Sigyn had done—he would slaughter her for treason. Loki—the Master of Lies and the Father of Mischief at once divined Sigyn's purpose. If she had spoken to him—trusted him, he would have worked her into his plans.

As it was, she would be considered a traitor and executed.

Thor was close now—even as he held his mother and comforted her.

With a split second of thought, he knew what must be done. He would take it all—make it seem as though Sigyn were innocent of deceit and treachery. And everyone would believe it. He smiled at his mother sadly—mysteriously—and waited for his brother to round the corner.

Sigyn gasped as the power flowed around her. She staggered back against the wall and crumpled there. It was Wild Magic that flowed through this thing—as though it was a tsunami pushed aside by the power that charged the room. She fancied she could hear the screams on Jotenheim.

She had no notion of time, but then Loki appeared in front of her. "Little love," he sighed. "My brother has returned and will not rest against me. You must flee before you are discovered and accused."

"Bother," she cursed, adding a few select words she had not said in some time.

Thor was hurtling through the air—hanging on to Mjolnir—when the first wave hit him. It was like a huge wave appeared in the air, forcing him to the side like ripples in a pond force a leaf to shore. But his brother must be stopped. For Sigyn's sake, if nothing else. There had to be a way to make him see reason...

"Go hide," Loki whispered, watching Thor get diverted slightly, then correct. "I will make it seem like I am alone here."

"I will be with you," she choked out fiercely. "No matter what comes."

"Hide!" he commanded and he flung his hands around.

Thor arrived, landing in the doorway. No one else seemed to be there and he felt some whit better. Loki began taunting him—like always—but he felt distant to it. Battered and worn.

"You can't stop it," Loki snapped. "The Bifrost will build until it rips Jotenheim apart."

"Why have you done this?" Thor demanded. It didn't matter—it was playing for time to figure out what to do next. Destroying the Bifrost was unthinkable—surely Loki knew that.

"To prove to Father that I am a worthy son!" Loki said. Loki seemed to shake a bit and then continued. "When he awakes, I will have saved his life."

Loki let the simulacrum speak, and continue taunting Thor. There was a vicarious pleasure in his voice speaking his words—even if it wasn't him. The things that he had buried—the feelings that had burned through him—they were venting out and there was no going back.

Only Sigyn stirred him, crouched against the wall was going forward. It was easy enough to become invisible, with his simulacrum taking his place, and then to pull her past Thor and down the bridge. At a safe distance, he left her there with a kiss on her invisible brow, to return to the battle.

Distantly, Sigyn heard Thor say "You can't kill an entire race." She frowned and tried to say something, but her voice was stolen in Loki's enchantment. She heard them arguing as she tried to speak, tried to signal them. But the bridge trembled beneath the battle and—it had no barriers. No way to avoid simply dropping off into oblivion.

"I should tell Odin to fix that," she thought distantly.

The explosions and battle cries were deafening as she crept down the road. Suddenly, a large thing flew past her and skittered off the edge. She heard Loki's cry and for a moment, felt helpless.

Then the heavy steps of Thor came up close to turn towards the other edge of the bridge. She shivered, feeling the tremors of the bridge beneath his feet. He still could not hear her, nor see her since he passed by so swiftly.

Loki said some small thing that she couldn't hear over the whipping winds and pounding surf beneath the bridge. Then, Thor was thrown back and a hundred voices of Loki surrounded them. It was impossible to tell which one was real.

"Enough!" Thor shouted and pounded the bridge.

Sigyn was thrust backward, one foot suddenly dangling off the edge of the bridge and the heavy sound of a body and a—staff or some metal thing—ringing. She tried to scream again and if any sound came out, it was buried in the rage around her.

She heard Loki's angry grunts and screams. Whatever happened, he could not rise. She crept closer. His hand smacked against her thigh, pushing her briefly away even as her hand reached for his chest.

There was the hammer. It was unmistakable—the short handle wrapped in braided leather and simply sitting on Loki's chest. Could he even breathe? It was hopeless—she could not move it.

Thor's heavy steps walked towards—unbelievably towards—the roar of the Bifrost. Then there was sliding. Sigyn dithered—should she go to him or shout or what?

"Go down the bridge and away!" Loki's voice angrily whispered.

She shook her head and tried again to move the hammer. "If Thor is lost, you'll never get out of here," she tried to whisper back.

Perhaps Loki heard her. Perhaps not.

"Look at you!" he shouted. "The Mighty Thor. With all your strength—and what good's it do you now, huh?!" Sigyn pulled on his belt and he cried out in pain. "Do you hear me now, brother? There's nothing you can do."

Suddenly, the hammer moved, flying towards Thor with a hum. Loki took in a deep breath and Sigyn backed up slightly to give him room. The Bifrost churned angrily—what had she done?-and it's roar and the roar of its machines were only getting louder.

Then there was the terrible sound of the crack.

The bridge shook.

Again—another crack against the bridge.

Sigyn lost what little blind footing she had. She gingerly stood, trying to get her bearings.

Then another crack and her knees buckled.

Three more times Thor pounded on the bridge to the Bifrost room.

"What are you doing?!" Loki demanded, shoving her down the bridge towards the castle. Sigyn was still so close and the bridge was brittle. He fumbled for a way to get his brother to think of what he was doing—just a few minutes more for Sigyn to get further down the bridge. "If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!"

Loki drew the staff closer to himself and charged down the bridge. He jumped and poised to attack. Sigyn must never be found out-he must do his duty and play his part and she would be safe. Thor would watch over her, ensure her safety and health—his own oaths would see to that.

Then Thor struck the final time and the entire bridge shattered.

Sigyn dropped to her belly and clung to the bridge with scraping fingertips as she was thrown backwards and then pulled forwards, inch by painful inch. There was a roar behind her and the whining and straining machine was silenced in a scraping, crushing crash.

And other footsteps strode past her—heavy, metal booted ones that seemed to fly down the bridge. The scent of vetiver flew past—like the smell of well loved and well worn leather and old trees in fall. The spell must have worn off, for the Allfather's hand brushed her brow as he passed.

Loki's voice broke over the howling winds. "I could have done it, Father!" He seemed desperately far and Sigyn crept closer to the sounds, counting on luck. "I could have done it—for you!"

Loki could see little but the form of his brother dangling upside down above him. His father's immense form was on the bridge—strong and unmoving like a mountain. Sigyn was visible again, shaking at the edge. Too close! Too close to the edge and still she crept closer. Loki swallowed heavily. His lies were her only cover now. "For all of us."

For an impossibly long moment, Odin only stared at the man he had called his younger son. What Sigyn was doing here was unknown to him—but Loki's bitterness had apparently drawn her in too and his heart broke to consider it. Thor would protect her, keep her, but what Loki had done was unforgivable.

"No, Loki," he said gently.

Sigyn sobbed, uncaring of who saw or heard her. She knew his purpose—he was taking her sins on himself. Her bitterness and hatred and anger was forever shielded because he had lied to make it so. It would die with him for he surely had only seconds left to hold on.

"Loki, NO!" Thor warned. One breath later, he was screaming... "Nooooo!"

Odin was pulling Thor up. "Sigyn," was all he said.

"Sigyn?!" Thor gasped as scrabbled to get to the top of the bridge. Sigyn was there at the edge, suddenly visible. "When...? What?"

Then it broke his heart as Sigyn smirked at him—that devil-may-care, mischievous smirk his brother had given him so often when he had been about to spring some monstrous trick and reveal his plans. She somehow was smirking at him, looking like she was cheering him and for a moment he wanted to believe it was another disguise of his brother's to buy time for some other piece to fall into place. Was it not another trick as Loki scrambled to his own safety?

Then she jumped.

There was no hope. There was no time for reaction. Just the soft sigh as she fluttered past like a broken kite, over the edge and into the oblivion. Then she


	7. Epilogue

_And Thor wept._

_"Well? Would you know more?" Uatu said._

_"Is there more?" Thor asked in a broken voice._

_"There is—though not much. Would you know more?"_

_"I would." Thor swallowed heavily. Even loved, it seemed that Loki lost everything. How was it that this was the happiest of endings for him?_

_Uatu shrugged with a faintly philosophical air. "The next morning, as all of Asgard weeps for the lost princess and curses the name of Loki, Odin is found dead at the foot of Yggdrasill with a knife and pruning twine in his hands. It is strange indeed, that he had only just awakened from the Odinsleep and been spending time with the great tree to trim two almost dead twigs of branches and graft them into another place on the tree. The two twigs are twined at the top—wrapped around and around and all but knotted—but at their base, they are green and will yet bloom again where they are grafted. Again, Asgard wails as Odin is lost to them."_

_"His heart would be broken at losing Sigyn—no matter what she had done." Thor admitted sadly. "And for the children she carried."_

_"In that timeline, you would have found his final words—to watch over your brother as he lives out his exile-"_

_"Exile?"_

_"On Earth..." Uatu smiled. He waved his hand at the immense book containing the story and the page turned._

A young man with short black hair, fair skin and green eyes went to see a young woman singing at a bar near his college. She was an up-and-coming indie rocker with wild green hair and tatoos of Celtic knots up and down her arms. He went to speak to her, perhaps to get to know her. She snarled at him and went off with her girlfriend—who would soon be her wife—and he bumped into another student.

"Pardon me," he said, looking at the woman he had barreled over.

"No problem—it happens all the time. It's like I'm invisible sometimes or something." She smiled up at him. She was almost beautiful—mahogany curly hair in a haphazard braid and her eyes are the loveliest shade of deep brown he has ever seen.

"You have...brown eyes," he sighed in amazement.

She smiled, glancing down as her skin flushed dark red. "Err...yes."

"I feel like..." The man smiled at her but glanced down with an embarrassed flush. "I feel like I've waited a lifetime to see them." He smiled at her, delicately putting his finger under her chin to get her to look up at him again. It felt like getting punched in the gut—in a good way. "I...that is, would you like to get some coffee?"

She smiled. "I can't stay out late—I have an ag class and then botany lab tomorrow." The young man looked so crestfallen she touched his hand. "But I can do one coffee."

At the coffee shop, they sat on a comfortable sofa—suddenly drifting together as though they had been always like that. She has a mint and chamomile tea and he sips a dark hot chocolate. "My...name is Laurence Olivier Knightsbridge Ingles."

She smiled. "That's a mouthful."

"It is," he shrugged. "Just call me Lo. What's your name?"

"I'm Victory," she whispered back.

"Victory?!" he queries playfully.

"Mmm...My dad was in the army and mom...a bit of a nut. So all of us got weird, hippy names." She sipped her tea. "So you are-"

"I'm a theater and poly-sci double major," Lo said.

"Oooo...a politician?"

"Gotta look good for the camera to do that," he said playfully.

"You look fine," Victory protested.

"So you're into?"

"I'm an agricultural and European history double major," she said.

"Farmer?" he grinned. "With an amusing set of trivia?"

Victory stuck her tongue out at him, giggling. But she didn't leave his side as they talked until late in the night.

The years went by and they both graduated. They married quietly, although the media made it a circus when he was discovered to have inherited a trust fund from a Mr. O'dinson. The executor of the trust was a distant relative named Dr. Donald Blake, who was prone to visit at odd times. He dabbled briefly in politics to take advantage of the uproar—and got out when he found it to be largely backbiting and nothing about actually ruling a people. Still, luck favored him and he found a good living performing magic tricks for TV, especially tricks involving fire. He toured briefly, but grew tired of it. Victory had two children—two lively boys—and stayed home to take care of them along with a burgeoning farm with free-range, organic milk goats, a flock of chickens, a rather solitary milk-cow and enough organic produce to feed everyone. As the children grew, one seemed destined to go into wolf conservation and one who wanted to join the navy. They lived pleasant lives in a small farmhouse at the Pennsylvania and Maryland border, retiring to raising horses for the armed forces and for racing.

_Thor read on._

_He was King of Asgard and his first act was to lay Odin Borson to rest. Restless, he ordered the rebuilding of the Bifrost, but by the time it was finished, Jane had all but given up hope. Nick Fury had spent billions on special projects and research, only to lose much of it when no attacks materialized. Agent Phil Colson died four years after that from a freak accident on a slippery highway. Only Malekith's attack and Jane's finding of the Aether saved Fury as Thor brought the might of Asgard to help Jane and Earth. In the wake of that attack, the governments of Earth continued funding the Avengers Initiative._

_But Banner went his own way—he was not interested in playing hero. Black Widow and Hawkeye wandered off as well, eventually retiring and finding somewhere quiet to live. Captain America grew tired of being the lab experiment—the FLAG project—and eventually went to enlist as a special forces volunteer. He died trying to save some girls in Nigeria. And then the Avengers Initiative died._

_Jane ultimately died from the Aether and it was only by the rarest of good luck that Asgard was saved. But Frigga died protecting Jane and again Asgard mourned under the rule of a all-but-broken and grief-weary king. Sif tried to become the wife and queen that Asgard needed, but it was oftentimes too little, too late._

_And King Thor of Asgard ruled from a battered and grim throne._

_"Why do you show me this?!" Thor demanded._

_"It is the truth," Uatu replied, nonplussed._

_"That Jane dies? That Colson and the others suffer?"_

_"That is a separate timeline. None of that happens here and now, of course," Uatu said._

_"It is a heavy and bitter thing," Thor remarked, closing the book._

_"Destinies usually are," Uatu agreed._

_"Show no one else this book," Thor commanded, drawing on his cloak. "Nor repeat the words in them."_

_"Whyever not?" Uatu said in a soft voice. "They cannot happen here and now."_

_"Because no one needs to know how grievously wrong we were of Loki and his intentions," Thor growled._

_"Ahhh," Uatu said sagely. "Well? Would you know more?"_

_"Is there more?" Thor demanded._

_"Of course—how Victory's children went on and then their children and children's children. Each path is a story that does not end simply because we wish it."_

_"What of the beginning?" Thor grunted._

_"The beginning?"_

_"What was so different that I changed our—Loki's course and destiny."_

_"Ahh... that is a small detail, but very important." Uatu cleared his throat. "You stopped to-"_

_"To what?!"_

_"To swat a fly biting your neck. You turned then tell Loki to be careful," Uatu finished. "He was behind you as you landed and you stopped just long enough for Sigyn to be in the right place to change the course of history._

_"Of course, in your timeline, you ignore the biting fly—assuming it to be some jest of Loki's. You do not speak to your brother as you step from your craft—though he hails you and asks for your direction in the battle..._

_"Well? Would you know more?"_


End file.
